


After the War

by NopeTrain



Series: We Were So Young [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Bottom Alexander Hamilton, Carriers, Child Abandonment, Childbirth, Founding Father RPF, George Washington - Freeform, George Washington is a Dad, Gun Violence, Happy Ending, Historical AU, Human Disaster Alexander Hamilton, I swear, I'm Going To Hell For This, Infertility, Lams - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of War, Mpreg, Near Death Experiences, Original Character(s), PTSD, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sex, Smut, Threats of Violence, Top John Laurens, Vomiting, because someone help me, because that's my favorite tag, graphic birth, historical fiction - Freeform, like a lot, near-death illness, these were real people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-07-01 18:12:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 39
Words: 31,763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15779412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NopeTrain/pseuds/NopeTrain
Summary: John was proud. Proud of his life, of his child. Proud to have the man he loved standing beside him. Looking to his left, he saw Alexander staring off into the distance, his forehead glistening with sweat despite the cool of the shade, his eyes oddly glazed.“Alex?”Alexander swayed slightly, giving no indication that he had heard John. Suddenly, the young man’s legs gave out beneath him and he fell forward.“Alexander!”(There's a lot of chapters, but don't let that fool you, they are really short!)





	1. You Are Not Well

**Author's Note:**

> So like, first of all, thank you! Ya’ll gave me so many compliments and requests for more in this verse that I finally wrote it!
> 
> This is the sequel to Worth Fighting For, and though you don't have to read it to understand this story, it might help with some of the context and past mentions.
> 
> Speaking of the story, it got like… super angsty? Like, wow.
> 
> There is a happy ending, though, I promise! And lots of Lams fluff. I also separated this fic into actual chapters because it turned out long? Oops.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this soul-crushing, fictitious, roller coaster of a story! <3  
> ((why am i like this))

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: vomiting, mentions of past childbirth, child abandonment, infertility, Alexander being a disaster and lots of angst to accompany it. Sorry...

The morning sun rose as Alexander Hamilton had always known it to. Warm summer rays felt welcoming on his fair skin as the early daylight shown through the bedroom window.

Daring to crack open an eye, Alexander was unsurprised to find that he was lying face to face with the one person he would never tire of waking next to.

John Laurens was still deep in slumber, his features relaxed and smooth as his breath gently caressed Alexander’s cheek. Alex remained still, taking note of John’s rumpled golden hair and furrowed brow, his lips resting slightly agape. He was perfect.

After an unguarded moment of taking in the sight of his lover, Alexander realized that his shoulder was becoming sore. Taking great care not to disturb his sleeping bedmate, Alex began to shift. 

Unfortunately, John had always been a light sleeper, which had incidentally come in handy during their time in the army; John playing watchdog, always waking at the sounds of approaching footsteps or voices outside their room. 

Their relations during their service had never been discovered by another officer; they had never been found out or exposed for what they were. Though Alexander was a carrier, he defined himself as a male, making his and John’s relationship a capitol offense and a mark against God.

Or so said the church.

But the reality? John was his church. John was where Alex would go when he was lost, when he was needy. He would worship John’s body, and in turn, Alexander would receive the same. They would spend as much time together as suspicion would allow, quiet nights tangled in each other’s embrace. Walks through the woods and drawings by candlelight, stolen glances and clasped hands under tables. John was Alexander’s everything, laws be damned. He would spend an eternity in hell if it meant he could love John in this lifetime.

John stirred as Alex rose up on his elbow, taking in a slow, waking breath and fixing his stunning blue eyes on Alexander’s, who grinned down sheepishly, freezing his movements.

“My apologies, I did not intend to wake you.”

“No need for apology. I would wake only to see your face.”

Alex felt his cheeks grow hot. His Jack, no matter how long they had been together, would always cause him to feel as a lovesick schoolboy, his attentive gaze never failing to make Alexander’s stomach tighten and perform skilled acrobatics inside him.

Alexander’s expression must have displayed this discomfort, as John leaned up on his elbow, mirroring his lover and pressed a tender kiss to the younger man’s forehead.

“Are you well this morning, my love?”

Alexander took a moment to think on the question, swallowing at a thickness in his throat. 

“I believe I have improved from mornings past.”

Concern crossed John’s features at the mention of the past few days, his eyes searching Alexander’s pale face.

“I am well, John, please do not fret.”

Reaching out absently, John began to run his fingers through Alexander’s red locks, untangling little snares as he went.

Alex hummed into the touch, tilting his head so that John’s hand was firm to his ear.

“Had I my way, there would never be a moment where we would not be touching.”

John chuckled at Alexander’s ridiculousness. “My dear boy, you know as well as I that that would be quite the mistake. Imagine going to the latrine?”

The two share a laugh, hands connecting and legs tangling beneath the blankets.

“Perhaps you are right. I should not be so greedy, as I do have you all to myself nowadays.”

“Well, not _all_ to yourself,” John corrected as they heard the padding of small feet approaching their bedroom door.

“Father? Papa?”

Alexander and John smiled at each other, their foreheads touching for just a moment.

“Come in, love,” Alex answered, sitting up in bed.

The door to their room opened slowly, a small girl with fiery hair and freckles, a mirror image of Alexander, shyly peeked in, still clothed in her nightgown.

“What is it, dear?” Alex asked, holding out his hand to his daughter.

“It’s morning!” Corentine cried, giggling behind her fist. She bounced over to her parents, her shyness left at the door as she clamored up onto the bed and nestled between them. “You said we could go to the park today!”

John laughed at his child’s fervor, taking after more than just his partner’s appearance.

“I did indeed, sweet one. And we will, but first we must have breakfast, yes?”

Corentine looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yes, I suppose.”

“Then why don’t you go downstairs and ask Vanessa to set the table for us, hmm? Your father and I will be down in a moment.”

That reasoning seemed to satisfy Corentine as she grinned wide and bounded back out the door as quickly as she had come.

“She’s quite the persuader,” John remarked, Alexander not missing the note of pride there.

“We would do better to say ‘no’ to her more often.” The couple smiled sideways at each other, knowing that neither of them would.

“Well, as we are going to the park today, we had better rise,” John said after a beat, shifting so that his feet met the wooden floor.

Alexander made a noise of affirmation, still smiling as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed and also stood.

Suddenly the world seemed off-kilter and his limbs far heavier than normal. Alex stumbled and fell to one knee, sucking in a sharp breath to steady his vision.

John was at his side in an instant, strong hands grasping around Alexander’s shoulders protectively.

“Alex? Tell me, what is wrong?” The panic in John’s voice made Alexander feel guilty, though he could not manage to answer right away, instead focusing on breathing and fighting again at the thickness in his throat.

“John, I-” Alexander covered his mouth with his hand, unable to say more. Thankfully, John seemed a step ahead, knowing what was to come as he handed the, thankfully empty, chamber pot to Alex.

Alex wretched violently into the pot, trying his best to make it seem like his vomiting was not causing him distress, but failing miserably.

John watched helplessly as Alexander continued to be sick, circling a comforting hand on Alex’s upper back, while the other held the man’s hair to his neck.

The ordeal lasted for several minutes, making John bristle with concern. He had certainly never seen any man become sick for such a enduring amount of time, other than when…

John gasped in realization as Alex leaned back, panting and shivering, his weight now supported by his lover’s larger frame.

“I think… I think it’s done.” Alexander said weakly, his hands shaking as he pushed at the stray hairs sticking to his now sweaty forehead. 

“Alexander…”

“If we get dressed and hurry downstairs no one will be the wiser.”

“Alexan- ”

“Corentine will want to leave as soon as we finish breakfast, so if we-”

“Alex…”

“-leave within the next hour we could have time to-”

_“Hamilton!”_

Alex jolted in John’s arms, the broader man instantly feeling guilty to have raised his voice.

“My love, please listen, you are not well. I think-”

“It is a passing bug, nothing to raise concern about,” Alex interrupted, wiping at the sweat on his forehead. “I must have eaten something to my stomach’s disliking.”

“Are you discrediting our Vanessa’s care in preparing our meals?”

“Not at all, but-”

“And would a sickness caused by food not last but a day? Alexander, it has been _three._ I think-”

“You think I should have a doctor examine me,” Alexander stated with a slight venom. “You think I should be placed in a sick bed and looked over by a stranger, just for him to tell us exactly what I have told you, it is but a-”

“I think you’re pregnant, Alex.”

Alex stiffened, his mouth slightly agape, frozen mid-sentence.

Taking Alex’s shock as an opportunity, John continued, “I do not mean to alarm you so, it is just that the last time you were so persistently ill, you were-”

“Corentine.”

“Pardon?”

“You… You’re right. I was- I was with Corentine, then.”

There was a heavy pause, Alexander swallowed and cleared his throat quietly.

John held Alex tighter to his chest, a smile curving at his lips. If was what he suspected…

“I thought…” Alexander made a sniffling noise that startled John out of his reverie, his hand instinctively seeking out Alex’s chin to turn his face towards him. Alex turned in his arms pliantly, the start of tears welling in his eyes as he avoided John’s gaze.

“You thought?” John asked delicately, wiping at Alex’s cheek with his thumb.

“I… I had thought myself to be,” Alex grimaced, “incapable… of bearing another child.”

John sucked in a quiet breath. It was true that he and Alexander had thought of having more children after Corentine.

Well, perhaps more than just _thought._

After the war, the couple had worked hard, both completing their schooling and becoming fastidious lawyers. In secrecy, the two had bought a home together under the guise of being working companions, but truly readying for the return of their daughter, their little girl now three years of age.

During the initial weeks following Corentine’s birth, she had become the couple’s whole world, nestling into their hearts in a way neither of them could have ever expected. But she had been born during the war, at the army encampment no less. Neither Alexander nor John were able to spend the first years of Corentine’s life with her, having to send her away to live with John’s sister, Martha, until the war’s end.

Though giving up Corentine had been right at the time, John had seen first-hand the emotional toll it had taken on Alexander to not have been with their daughter during those tender years. John could see the guilt in his lover’s sharp eyes, lingering still to this day, tormented for having left his child in favor of a war.

John also knew, though Alexander would never admit to it for fear of coming across as selfish, that Alex felt he had missed out on one of the most fulfilling aspects of being a parent; watching his child grow. Corentine crawling, taking her first steps, speaking and calling them by name, they had missed everything. With each letter from South Carolina regarding the tiny girl’s progress, Alexander would try to hide his tears, claiming pride, but John knew better. He felt it, too.

Not to mention, John had not even been present for Corentine’s birth. That guilt was his own, a weight that he would always carry with him, one that he could never completely apologize for, as it had been done.

Nothing in John’s mind would ever compare to the horror of returning from his scouting mission in the early hours to find Alexander missing from their room, the supplies they had gathered for Corentine’s entrance into the world disappeared as well.

John could still clearly recall the ringing in his ears and the ache in his chest as he and Lafayette rushed to the tent that they had set up just outside of camp, afraid that he would find Alexander in pain, Alexander dead… his child and his lover lost to him while he had been swept away by the damned war.

Thankfully, that had not been so.

He had found Alex safe and sound, if not very sore and tired, holding a bundle that he would introduce to John as their daughter. In that moment, he had instantaneously fallen in love, their little girl claiming ownership of his heart as soon as she cracked open her crystal blue eyes to give her father a disgruntled glare.

Fast forward to a year after Corentine’s reinstatement into their lives, their new home felt cozy, but not quite full. With this realization, John and Alexander quickly became ecstatic with the idea of having another child.

Acting upon their wishes, they would be passionate late into the night, sometimes on through morning and even during the day, if Vanessa were to take Corentine on an outing, sneaking around as if they were still in the army, an officer around any corner of their own home.

However, as time passed, the couple’s hopes began to dwindle, no signs to come of what they wished for most. Months, then years flew by until eventually, the talk of children ceased. Some nights Alexander would whimper quietly into his pillow when he thought John to be asleep, his tears not going unnoticed by his partner, though John could never find the words to comfort what he knew he could not fix.

Presently, summer was upon them and Corentine would be turning six soon, each year of her life an odd reminder for John an Alexander of the time that they had lost with her. Of the time they could have had with another child, had they conceived.

Yet here they were now, huddled together on their bedroom floor, staring down the barrel of a possibility they had so long wished for, but had all but given up on.

John pulled Alexander closer, the smaller man fitting easily in the crook of his neck. “Alex, If this is… if this is what we think-”

“Jack.”

John looked down at Alex, suddenly shocked by the man’s wavering tone. For someone with such renowned ferocity, his partner now sounded so uncharacteristically meek as he trembled and tried to hide his eyes in John’s shoulder.

“What if… I mean to say, I do not wish to grow my hopes, _your_ hopes,” Alexander babbled, “If it is not what you think, then I don’t… I don’t think I can-”

Alex struggled as he bit back what John knew to be a sob as he held his lover tighter, letting the smaller man relent and shudder against him. The quiet sounds of Alexander’s heartbreak was suffocating to John in their small room, their sanctuary. Here, they were safe from suspicion, safe from unwelcome eyes and judgement, from the law. Yet here, nothing could be done to protect them from their own personal despairs, and it made John feel weak.

“Shh, Alexander, please. No matter the outcome, we have Corentine. We have each other.”

“I wasn’t with her… I should have been with her.” Alex sobbed, grasping tightly at Johns shirt.

John’s heart broke. 

“My love, there was nothing we could have done. We did what was best, what was safe for her. And just look at her now, she is a fine girl, with your wit and my southern charm.” John tilted Alex’s chin up to face him, giving the young man a wry smile.

Alex couldn’t help but smile back, hot tears still streaming down his cheeks, “That she does, John.”

Then came a knock at the door, “Sirs?”

John and Alex shared a pointed look, then John untangled himself from Alex gingerly, leaving the younger man to rest against the bed frame for a moment as he moved to open the door.

“My apologies, Vanessa, we will be down shortly.”

Vanessa, a pretty young woman with dark, curly hair and bright eyes curtsied politely before looking up at John in the doorway.

“Not a problem, sir. The young mistress is only delighted at the fine day ahead.” Then Vanessa’s expression turned to that of slight concern. “Is Mr. Hamilton unwell again this morning?”

John sighed, knowing Vanessa was smart enough to also read the signs of what was so plainly in front of them. After all, he and Alexander had hired her for that very reason. On top of cooking and serving meals and keeping the house in order, she also would assist the men by playing the part of secretary when their work would be brought home.

Vanessa was also a woman of little judgement, and John secretly suspected that she, in fact, also harbored a similar secret with her friend Katrina, who would visit the house from time to time.

Vanessa and the couple had a sort of unspoken understanding, one that kept the house and the people within safe from outside scrutiny and public embarrassment. John truly had come to trust her with his family, as _part_ of the family.

“He… claims to have eaten something upsetting. However…” John paused to carefully search for his words.

“You think it something more?”

John locked eyes with Vanessa, her sharp gaze knowing and full of implication.

“Perhaps.”

“John, do not feed our Vanessa lies, she is too smart for it,” Alexander chimes as he stands beside the bed, albeit a little unsteadily. “I am well, Vanessa. We will be down shortly.”

Vanessa shared a quick look with John before curtsying again and stepping back down the stairs.

John closed the door behind her and turned to Alexander, now fighting to get his day clothes on.

“Alexander, it is you who lie.”

“We know nothing, John. It could be nothing.”

“Alex-”

“Jack, please.” Alex’s eyes shimmered dangerously, his voice strained. “Whatever this illness, it will either progress or dissipate. Do we understand each other?”

A pause.

“You mean that we should wait.”

“Exactly that.”

Blowing out a resigned breath, John made his way over to Alex, now struggling to pull a fresh shirt over his head. “My love, I shall wait for but awhile. However, If you continue to become sick for longer than we have observed in the past, then we shall seek a physician’s opinion. Can we agree?”

Alex finally managed to pull his head through the correct shirt hole and paused for a moment, his eyes locking with John’s. “I can concede to this on the condition that we do not speak on it further until we can be certain that it is not, or is, what you suspect.”

John clenched his fists at his sides, but nodded despite himself, knowing better than to argue such a topic with Alexander. It was unwise to argue any topic with Alexander, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ex·po·si·tion  
> /ˌekspəˈziSH(ə)n/  
> noun
> 
> Well, here we go, folks. Strap in!


	2. Taken

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: mentions of past childbirth, child abandonment, past minor character deaths and just angst in general

True to his word, John did not again speak on his suspicions concerning Alexander’s condition.

Instead, he stood by, a close eye on his lover as they continued their day to day. Alexander would still become ill most mornings, with John always prepared to hand off the chamber pot, to hold up Alexander’s quaking form, to whisper calming words of love and praise in his partner’s ear.

Vanessa, though she feigned innocence, began leaving glasses of ‘special’ tea on Alexander’s nightstand each evening and taking care to prepare extra snacks for the daytime to combat Alex’s newly ravenous appetite.

The signs rang clear to John and Vanessa, who would share meaningful looks over Alexander’s shoulder as he would fuss and rant about not needing to be doted upon and have special snacks or drinks made for him. Though despite his arguments, John would often catch Alexander partaking of both.

Weeks flew by, and Alexander’s morning illness finally ceased, some semblance of normalcy returning to their lives as Corentine’s birthday came upon them.

Corentine’s birthday had always, in a way, been a somber occasion for Alex. While he was of course overjoyed to celebrate another year of his child’s life, the day itself would always remind Alexander of the night she was born.

He had been alone, scared and, at a few points during the ordeal, certain that he was going to die. Nothing he had heard or read could have ever prepared him for what he actually had experienced that night, unattended in a secluded army tent with a monstrous storm battering the canvas from the outside, his child tearing him apart from the inside.

And then there was the memory, three weeks after Corentine’s birth, that Alexander feared to revisit the most.

The day Corentine was taken to South Carolina.

He had known it was right for her to go, for the sake of her own safety and her parent’s reputation. But in that moment, as Alexander held his daughter for the last time as an infant, he couldn’t fathom why he had to relinquish the child that he had just given birth to, that he had only just begun to know.

She was forcefully taken from his arms by Martha’s servant, the man obviously pained, and slightly disgusted by the nature of John and Alex’s behavior and relationship. Alex all but crumpled on the ground, his arms so empty with John leaning over him, his own tears falling just as fast, but doing his best to remind Alexander that it needed to be done.

Corentine’s fading cries as she was ridden away had broken something inside Alexander, that day forever leaving a messy wound, open and raw this mind. It was a loss from which he never fully recovered, even if Corentine was returned to them now.

Alexander didn’t want to go through that again… he couldn’t. He would not have another baby, the _possibility_ of another baby in his arms, only to have that possibility taken away. _Everything had been taken away._

His mother, _taken._

His cousin, _taken._

His Corentine… _taken._

No more. No more, please.

“Alex?”

_No more._

“Alexander!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :O


	3. Make Haste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: fainting, John panicking

Alex had fallen. He had fallen and John was just barely able to catch him on the front steps of their house. If he hadn’t… no, he couldn’t think on that.

Corentine had been playing in the front garden, laughing as two butterflies danced around her red locks, thinking her a flower. Vanessa following close behind the little girl, trying to convince her to stand still as the butterflies hovered.

John was proud. Proud of his life, of his child. Proud to have the man he loved standing beside him. Looking to his left, he saw Alexander staring off into the distance, his forehead glistening with sweat despite the cool of the shade, his eyes oddly glazed.

“Alex?”

Alexander swayed slightly, giving no indication that he had heard John. Suddenly, the young man’s legs gave out beneath him and he fell forward.

“Alexander!”

John had caught Alex, his skull mere inches from the bottom stair.

“Vanessa!” John cried.

Having seen the incident, Vanessa swiftly scooped up Corentine in her arms and rushed toward the front stoop.

“Vanessa, quickly, call for a doctor!”

“Yes, sir!” Vanessa rushed past the two men on the stairs, shushing Corentine’s cries of “Papa!” and disappearing indoors, returning only moments later with her riding gear.

“I will return promptly,” she threw over her shoulder.

John nodded once, a grim expression darkening his features, “Make haste."


	4. Grave and Hushed

Alexander was sweaty, hot. No, cold.

He was in his bed, or _a_ bed, at least. There was a weight on his forehead, a coolness that made him shiver. Voices down the hall, grave and hushed.

Was he to die?

Was he to be taken, too?


	5. We Had Suspected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: homophobia, deathly illness, rage

“Can anything be done?”

The doctor, a gruff middle-aged man with an offending mustache, pulled the door to John and Alexander’s bedroom closed, motioning for John to follow him down the hall.

They entered Alexander’s study, all sorts of papers and quills in disarray across every surface available, an empty teacup balanced on top of a stack of papers, forgotten.

“What can you tell me of his condition?” The doctor inquired, taking in the haphazard state of the room.

“He… he was healthy naught but a few months ago. Then he-” John took a moment to swallow a lump in this throat, “He would become sick each morning for about four weeks. He has since improved, but… now this,” John wildly gestured toward the hall.

The doctor made a dismissive affirmative nose as he shuffled through some of the medical instruments in his bag. “You are aware your Alexander is a carrier, I am sure.”

“Yes,” John returned, blandly.

“And you are aware that he is pregnant?”

John couldn’t help the gasp that escaped his lips, his chest feeling as though it had just been punched.

“We… we had suspected-”

“He isn’t far along, but I can assure you, he is with child,” the doctor said, flatly.

“Oh,” John managed back, stupidly.

“I can imagine you have a great interest in this man, given your current… living arrangements.”

John stiffened.

“He is suffering from a severe fever. He should be kept in bed and given liquids until it breaks. However, if I may be frank with you, the prospect of a recovery is bleak. There is nothing more that can be done for him.”

At that, the doctor picked up his case and made to leave, but John moved into his path.

“Nothing more? Is there not medicine that could bring down his fever?”

“I’m sure you are aware of certain roots and herbs available to the public for such ailments,” the doctor replied tersely, “I said good day, sir.”

The doctor moved towards the door again, but this time John filled the frame with his intimidating stature.

“And what of the child? Would you leave your patient in such a condition without care, without crucial medication?!”

The doctor’s mustache twitched, his body leaning forward to glare at John intensely, “I treat the esteemed ladies and gentlemen of this new nation, _sir_ ,” the doctor spat, “and I would do well to prioritize the health of such folk over others.”

John took in a sharp breath, his mind reeling with possibilities. This man with a bloody face, a busted jaw, this man lying at the bottom of their stairs in a broken heap. But before John could make any of these visions a gruesome reality, he felt Vanessa’s tight grip on his shoulder.

“I think it best you take your leave now, _sir_ ,” Vanessa cut in, brusquely.

The doctor huffed and managed to squeeze around John’s unmoving form, mumbling something about leaving before, had he been allowed.

John then rounded to face the young woman, his voice strained and panicked, “Vanessa, he will not-”

“I know. I will ride to town presently, retrieve the herbs that we need. I can return before sundown.”

For a beat, John could not think of what to say. Something in Vanessa’s eyes was telling, and suddenly he felt a stroke of kinship with this woman that he could not fully explain.

John nodded once, his eyes dark. “Go, then.”


	6. For the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: deathly illness, past character death, near death experience, an upset child and heartbreak in general :'(

Vanessa did in fact, return before sundown, a variety of roots and herbs carried safely in her saddle bag.

She rushed up the stairs to alert John and Corentine of her arrival, both sitting in an eery silence by Alexander’s bedside.

Back downstairs, Vanessa ground the herbs into a tea, just as she was taught as a child. Just as she had done for her ailing Katrina all those years ago.

The remedy had worked then, and it would work for Alexander now.

Back upstairs she enlisted the help of both father and daughter as she tried to rouse Alex, to no avail. Having prepared for this, Vanessa poured her remedy into a basin and used a clean cloth soaked in the tea to drip he remedy into Alexander’s mouth as John gently held it open.

To this point, Vanessa had worked in near perfect silence, until Corentine began to whimper from the corner of the room.

Vanessa’s grave veneer softened, suddenly remembering the child for what she was, “Corentine, dear, would you come here?”

Corentine shook her head violently in responce, her hands covering her face as she began to wail.

John stood abruptly and walked over to his daughter, resting his broad hands on her tiny shoulders.

“Corentine, my love, I know this must be hard sight for you to see. It is hard for me, too.” John paused to glance back at Alexander’s pale body lying motionless on the bed, suddenly feeling hot tears burning at his own eyes. John turned back to Corentine, the sight of her breaking his heart. Her cheeks are flushed and salty with tears, her chest heaving.

John was abruptly reminded of when his mother died. The devastation he felt, how he had had his siblings, how they had supported each other through the worst of it, how they had learned to move past such a tragedy with each other’s guidance. Corentine would not have such a luxury. She would only have John.

And for one terrifying moment, John wasn’t certain he could be strong enough to continue without Alexander.

Shaking the thought, he pulled Corentine to his chest and held her, allowing her a moment to tremble in his arms.

It wasn’t until John felt a familiar hand on his shoulder that he realized his own tears were now falling, mixing messily in Corentine’s unruly curls.

“John.” Vanessa had never addressed the man by his first name, always retaining a sense of propriety as their housemaid. “Let me take her to bed. I can return quickly.”

John managed to look back to where Alexander lay motionless, all of a sudden feeling the urge to be alone with his partner.

“Thank you, Vanessa, but I believe it is best that you get some rest as well. I will watch over Alexander for the night.”

Vanessa did not argue, understanding what John needed in this moment. She and Corentine walked out into the hall hand in hand, the little girl looking back only once to whisper “I love you, Papa,” before the door clicked closed behind her.


	7. Bloody and Bruised and Shot, But Alive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: near-death experience, angst, SO MUCH OF IT, deathly illness

Alexander shook violently in his sleep, convulsing with what appeared to be a chill, though his skin was dangerously hot to the touch, his body glistening with sweat.

John remained vigilant at Alexander’s side, griping his hand tightly and holding him as his body quaked. Every so often a soft moan would rise from Alex’s lips, raising the small hairs on the back of John’s neck. Alexander was in pain, and there was nothing he could do to absolve it. He was utterly helpless, forced to watch as his partner faded before him.

Was this to be it?

After surviving the war, after finding one another at the end of each battle they fought, bloody and bruised and _shot_ , but _alive_ ; after illness and famine and misery, after _everything_ , would this be how they part?

Alexander, with their child… 

Alexander, who would never get to hold his baby. The baby that they had prayed for, the baby that had already broken their hearts.

Had John known this child would take Alex from him, he would never have wished for it so. 

But time could not be undone, and if this were truly his and Alexander’s last quiet moment together, then he would stay at his side, the silence be damned.


	8. You Cannot Leave Us So

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For real, this might be the saddest scene I've ever written, just a heads up. It's dialogue heavy with lots of grieving and begging. So:
> 
> In this chapter: Grieving, near-death experience, deathly illness, heartbreak, begging, slight fluff if you squint

Night wore into day, into another night; Alexander faring none the better. Vanessa did her best to keep Corentine occupied, allowing the small child to visit briefly before persuading her to let her Papa rest. John knew it was for Corentine’s benefit as well as his own that Vanessa kept her away, leaving the couple time alone in case the worst should happen.

But John refused to think about such things. Instead, he busied himself with wetting cool cloths and keeping them to Alex’s burning forehead and chest, his free hand finding purchase in his partner’s beautiful red hair or his cheek, always touching, always comforting. He knew Alexander would like that, were he conscious.

During the rare moments that Alexander would stir, John would rush forward with Vanessa’s herbal tea, squeezing droplets of the fever reducer into his parted lips, though Alex would never fully rouse.

Time was running out. No man could remain with such an aggressive fever for long, and for Alexander, it had already been nearly two days. The repetition of care and lack of improvement finally began to tear at John’s mind. As much as he wished for his lover’s recovery, he had to face the reality of the situation. If this was the last he would have of his Alexander, then he would speak to him. He would bare his soul to this man, have him hear the contents of his heart as long as he lingered to listen.

“Alexander…” John began hesitantly, the dryness of his throat catching in his voice, “My love, I can only trust that you hear me, so I will speak slow and plain.”

John breathed in a long breath, eyes daring to memorize everything he could of the man before him. His fiery hair, his freckled nose and small frame, the moonlight from the open window mingling silver against Alexander’s skin, setting him aglow with a ghostly pallor. Had he not been shaking still, John would have thought him passed.

“Alexander,” John addressed again, “you cannot leave us so.”

John felt tears threatening his vision with the admission of such a possibility. With no one but his lover laying limp in the room, he continued, disregarding how a mess he must look.

“Corentine and I, we need you. Your daughter needs her Papa, and I-” John’s voice broke as his tears were forced free, “I doubt I could endure, should you go.”

Amidst the swell of emotion, John intertwined his fingers into Alex’s limp ones, squeezing hard, as if he could pin Alexander’s soul there, keeping it safe inside.

“My dear boy… I beg you to stay. If not for me, then surely for your daughter, surely for…” his voice became lost as he remembered what should have been their happiest news.

John untangled his shaking fingers from Alexander’s and reached out curiously, hesitating over his partner’s uncovered navel.

“My love, did you know?” John asked softly, letting his hand fall gently over Alexander’s middle, resting just above his hips.

Though the child wasn’t truly showing yet, John could still feel the familiar firmness of a womb, the tiniest slope of a dome in which their baby grew, tucked away safely inside.

Feeling the tiny proof of their child's life beneath his palm was the final break. Overwhelmed with grief and heartbreak, John finally relented, allowing uncharacteristic sobs wrack his entire body. His messy blonde hair fell loosely to his face, his hand still guarding the baby he might never meet, but already loved so.

The gray of early morning replaced the evanescent moonlight as a new day’s sun began to rise. John, oblivious to the coming of dawn, remained bowed, crying softly into his lover’s middle and blathering in concise phrases. “Please. Alexander, my love. You cannot. Please, fight. Stay. For us, for this. Please. Please.”

Suddenly, there was a soft weight against John’s cheek, familiar, if not slightly clammy. A hand.

“And what is it that has my Jack begging so?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crying, YOU'RE crying.
> 
> Anyway, I'll be out of town for the weekend, but expect more chapters on Monday! (USA EST)


	9. Not Just Your Own

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **ATTENTION**
> 
> For those of you who have already read through what I have posted, I encourage you to re-read the previous chapter. I changed it just a little to fix a loop-hole I wrote myself into, so if you want to see the change (it's minuscule) then check it out! If not, eh, it doesn't super affect the story, I just fixed the dialogue a little.
> 
> Anyway, in this chapter: yelling, couples fighting, near-death illness and of course, more angst.

Relief had fallen over John like a wave, crashing into him all at once, then ebbing to a sense of euphoric peace.

Alexander had woken in the early hours on the third day, still warm with fever, but _conscious_ , and well enough to drink and eat, his shuddering dwindling to only slight shivers.

John remained glued to Alexander’s side, grasping his hand, his shoulder, his cheek - anything he could reach as the younger man sat up in their bed and munched on a cut of slightly stale bread, complaining avidly about the work he had missed between bites.

“Unconscious for two entire days!” Alex motioned widely with his hands, “ _And_ nights! I would be thankful for the rest if it weren’t such a waste of my time. Of all the days to fall ill! I was expected to turn in my notes on the Campbell case, not to mention I have yet to finish two letters of correspondence _and_ my essay for-”

“ _Alex_.”

Alexander would have continued his exasperated ranting had it not been for the dangerous waver in John’s voice, the _need_ there. Alex tuned his complete focus to his lover for the first time since waking, shocked by the hunger with which the blonde man stared, as if this were his last chance to take in the sight of his partner. Only then did Alex realize how desperately John clung to him, his grip unrelenting and possessive.

“John, what-”

“You were so close.” John murmured, his eyes downcast, voice so soft that Alexander had to lean in.

“Close?”

“To death.”

Silence held thickly in the air for a beat, the gravity of John’s words heavy in Alexander’s ears.

“I have… never seen you in such a state.” John took in a shuddering breath, his gaze focused on where his hand connected with Alexander’s. “We have survived battles together, triumphed hunger and illness and injustice and-” His voice broke, “I never thought I would lose you in such a way, in our own home.”

Alexander dropped what was left of his bread and brought John’s face up to level his, both hands bracketing the blonde man’s cheeks, his tears now evident as their azure eyes met.

“But you haven’t lost me. I am here, I am well.”

“You do not know how ill you were. How certain it seemed that you would…” John trailed off, unwilling to say aloud what they both knew. “Even now, you are still fevered. You are in no condition to fuss so,” John chastised, taking his lover’s hands in his own.

“My dear Jack, you are the one to fuss. I feel rested and well enough to at least draft responses to the letters I am sure have accumulated in my absence. If you would let me-”

“I would not.”

Alexander appeared genuinely offended. “You would not let me continue my work even from my bed?”

“No.” John said tersely, an unexpected fury edging at his surface.

“John!" Alex yelled petulantly, "I am not a child in need of coddling, and if you think you can keep me from-”

“I thought you _lost_ , Alexander!”

Alex snapped his open mouth shut, mortified by John’s outright rage, directed so piercingly at him.

“You have no idea what it was like to watch you, writhing in pain and shivering away from every touch!” The anguish in his lover’s voice resonated within Alexander, vibrations of guilt for prioritizing his work over his family's worry tingling uncomfortably at his core.

“ _Nothing_ , could ever have prepared me to see you in such a state; so pale, so _near death_. You leave us in a purgatory of concern and misery for two days and the first thing you speak of upon waking is the _work you've missed?!_ ”

Alexander flinched. “You are right, my love, please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I should rest, I should think about you, about Corentine and what it would do to you both should I disregard my own health.”

“Not just your own,” John remarked ominously.

“What?”

John was noticeably shaking, either with rage or incredulity or some other cacophony of emotions, Alexander couldn’t tell. However, John only shook his head in answer, standing and untangling himself from Alexander’s hold, bitterly.

“I will send Vanessa up shortly with some tea for your remaining fever. Corentine will want to see you when you feel well enough, she has worried after you deeply.”

“John, wait-”

But John was already through the door, closing it roughly behind him, leaving Alexander alone for the first time since he fell unconscious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GODDAMMIT ALEX
> 
> Side note:
> 
> I apologize, I meant to upload this and the next few chapters WAY EARLIER today, but uh, my apartment cAUGHT ON FIRE?
> 
> No one was hurt, we're just like... smokey-smelling now?
> 
> Anyway, hope this was worth the wait and that you all are having a better Monday than I am, lol. Lots of love!
> 
> *throws glitter into the air and disappears*


	10. Damn Your Ears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: angst, apologies, forgiveness (can you imagine), THEN FLUFF FINALLY OMG, then some slightly PG13 stuff (more of that later), cockblocking, Corentine being an adorable BAMF, and HUMOR???

John had fallen in love with the most argumentative, oblivious, headache of a man. Awake not even an hour after being unconscious and bed-bound for over forty-eight hours, and immediately asking about work.

_This man is ridiculous._

But wasn’t that why he loved him? Alexander, with his steadfastness, his passion and tenacity.

Though Alex was bull-headed and, at times, inattentive, John would never change a thing about his partner. John recognized that they each had their own respective eccentricities, ones that they had vowed to work through together from the beginning. These traits, these _faults_ were what made them who they were, what had attracted them to each other all those years before.

John suddenly felt guilty for leaving Alex alone, knowing that he had hurt his lover’s feelings. He had just been so _angry_. How could Alex have expected to go right back to the normal day to day after nearly dying, after nearly leaving his family, his Jack, behind?

 _Because he’s Alexander Hamilton_ , John’s brain supplied, unhelpfully.

As plain as it was to John, he had to remind himself that Alex hadn’t been awake, he hadn’t seen what his illness had done to his partner, how devastated their little family truly had been.

John’s anger began to subside as he rationalized his lover’s point of view, even if the younger man had been wrong to ask about his work so quickly. Really, the last thing John wanted right now was to fight. He wanted to hold Alex, _his Alexander_ , tight in his arms and breathe him in as he thought he never would be able to again.

His Alex with their Corentine and Vanessa. Their odd family safe, their odd family… not yet complete.

As abruptly as he had left, John burst back into their shared room to find Alexander hunched over in bed, unflatteringly thick tears streaming down his freckled cheeks.

“John, I’m- I didn’t mean-”

“Shh, shh,” John shushed, climbing into the bed and pulling Alexander close to him, the intimate contact feeling like a shot of hot whisky to the couples’ blood. “I’m sorry, too, Alex. My Alexander. I love you... I love you more than the stars and skies above us.”

Tears formed hot at both he lovers’ eyes as they clung to each other, the chilling uncertainty of the days past ebbing away to tormented memory.

Alex tilted his chin up in askance, John responding in kind with a deep, impassioned kiss. It was something reminiscent of the forbidden kisses they would share in their rare moments alone in the army; the thrill of being found out combined with the delayed gratification of intimate touch transposing into a sensual, decadent flavor to be passed between the lover’s tongues.

Alex reached up, his hand grasping hard at John’s fine locks and pulling, a new fever taking over him as he moaned into John’s mouth.

John practically growled in response, his hands hungrily roaming over the expanse of Alexander’s body, one hand grappling onto his lover’s jaw, the other coming to rest on the small of Alex’s back, pushing with a force that brought the smaller man into his lap.

The sultry sounds of heavy breath and needy moans pervaded the air, a thick miasma of their own making, one the pair could get drunk off of.

Suddenly John pulled away, stiffening in Alexander’s arms.

“John?”

“Shh,” John hushed, his head cocked toward the door. After a beat, Alexander could hear the rushed footsteps on the stairs.

“Damn your ears,” Alex groused as he shifted back to his rightful place in the bed, taking care to cover the more outstanding evidence of their passions while John rushed to do the same.

Not a second later, Corentine burst in, defying the manners they had taught to her at an early age, and bounced up and down with a wide, toothy smile lighting her face. Vanessa was just a step behind her, the admonishments flowing off her tongue caught short as she took in the sight of Alexander awake and well.

“I told you, Vanessa! I told you!” Corentine shrieked happily, still capering, now in a tight circle in front of the couple’s bed.

Vanessa looked speechless for a moment, then allowed herself to smile as well, relief clearly commandeering her usual composure.

“Miss Corentine, I apologize, you were correct after all.”

“Of course I was!” Corentine replied unabashedly. “Can I come up Papa? Can I?”

Alexander could never have said no.

In a heartbeat, little Corentine was nestled comfortably between her parents on the bed, clinging firmly to Alex and nuzzling into his side. Alex couldn’t help but cling back, realizing how horribly he had concerned his family. If it were in his power, he would never frighten them so again.

“What were you right about, little one?” John asked, pushing an unruly curl behind his daughter’s ear.

“Tell them, Vanessa! You didn’t think I was telling the truth!” Corentine giggled, hugging herself closer to Alex.

Vanessa looked irked for an instant, before relenting with an honest grin, “We were far out on the property when Corentine said she heard yelling coming from your room.”

“I see,” John said in slight embarrassment.

“She said she heard Mr. Hamilton’s voice.”

Alexander laughed, “Of course she did, of course! My lovely girl, you knew I was awake.”

“Uh-huh! You were really loud.”

It was John’s turn to laugh.

Vanessa cleared her throat from the foot of the bed, giving both men a knowing smirk. “Miss Corentine, might you help me make breakfast for your Papa, since he is awake? We can make him something special together so that he shall know how much we’ve missed him.”

“For Father, too?”

Vanessa suppressed a laugh, “Of course, whatever we make we will share with everyone.”

Vanessa helped Corentine off her parents bed, the little girl unable to contain her energy as she ran ahead through the door, pausing a moment to balance on her toes and wave back at her parents before disappearing down the hall. Vanessa followed close behind, shooting the couple wry smile before closing the door behind her.

“Well, John, I do believe she has your ears,” Alex snorted.

John shoved Alex over in the bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually?? My favorite chapter???


	11. We Must Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: healing from past trauma, fluff, my attempt at 18th century humor

By mid-day, Alexander’s fever had broken completely, the young man agreeing to stay in bed to recover and give his time to his family. Corentine spent much of the day in her parents room, filling Alex in on what he had missed while he had been “resting,” hopping around their bed and motioning wildly with her little hands as she relayed the details of her horseback lesson.

By late evening, Alex found himself nodding off as his daughter lay between John and himself, still talking, sleepily chronicling how she and Vanessa had caught and identified four different types of butterflies the day previous. Just as Corentine began to describe the patterns on each of the butterflies’ wings, there came knock at their door.

“Good evening, sirs. Miss Corentine? I believe it’s past your bedtime.”

Corentine groaned, but didn’t have the energy to argue further, sitting up and allowing herself to be lifted out of her parent’s bed and lead to her own bedroom.

“Goodnight, Papa. I’m glad you’re feeling better, now,” she curtsied, showing off her manners before following Vanessa back out into the hall.

“I’d boast that we’ve outdone ourselves with her,” John remarked, eyes lingering on the door.

“Yes,” Alexander replied absently.

John picked up on his lover’s vacant tone right away. “What are you thinking of, my love?”

Alex sighed, “We’ve done well with her, of course. However… we are not the only ones who have raised her.”

Marking the hint of remorse in Alexander’s voice, John did his best to navigate his next words with care, knowing that his partner was not referring to Vanessa.

“We were so young when she was born. We knew nothing about children, only how to fight.”

“And write,” Alex supplied.

 _At least he is still in good spirits,_ John thought.

“Yes, and write. Mostly the latter.”

The two shared a half-hearted laugh, their fingers twinning together at their sides.

“I know what we did then was difficult, maybe even wrong for a child,” John began, “But life is filled with regrets, and in my opinion, we can either hold on to those feelings and let our guilt destroy us from the inside, or we can live outwardly, and accept that what we have now is the outcome of us trying our best, and I believe that is something to be proud of."

Alexander seemed thoughtful for a moment.

“I would rather be proud than regretful.”

“As would I, my love.”

A pause.

“I am proud of the young woman Corentine is becoming, and I am proud that we have her with us now.”

John glanced over at Alex, half surprised at his words. They seemed healthy. Healing.

“Yes,” John agreed, turning on his side to face his lover, the younger man still laying on his back and studying the ceiling with rigor.

Alex’s free hand fidgeted for a moment, sliding up as if to rest below his belly button, but instead fluttering above the skin there, seemingly torn, before falling still on his chest.

The odd movement didn’t go unnoticed.

“I am proud of everything we have, Alexander. I’m proud of our lives, our house, our daughter. I’m proud of you, as well, my dear boy.”

Alex snorted, but didn’t argue as he tightened his grip on John’s hand.

The two lay in silence for a moment before Alex spoke up.

“I wish I could give you more.”

It was an unusually simplistic sentence that John hadn’t expected from a man so renowned for his wordiness and mastery of phrasing. It was a little unnerving, in fact.

“My love, I would have nothing more to ask of you. You and Corentine are my everything.”

Alex shifted away, obviously fighting to hold in words set to burst at his tongue.

_Enough._

“Alex, we must talk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nobody likes to hear the "we need to talk" phrase, tbh


	12. A New Weight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: AANNNGGGST, fluff, crying, infertility but not really because -> (mpreg) pregnancy acknowledgement (IT'S ABOUT TIME, ALEX)

Alex turned to his side so that he mirrored John, his hair falling messily over his shoulder, having not been pulled back into a ponytail since his recovery.

“My Alexander,” John began, “You do not hide your thoughts well enough.”

Alex gave him a skeptical look, but John knew it to be a guise.

“I know you have wanted more for us. I know that the passage of time has made you doubtful of your capabilities, but that is not your worth, my love.”

Alex noticeably flinched.

John reached out and stroked Alex’s sharp cheekbone in an attempt at comfort, his words coming softly as if he were speaking to a newborn deer. “I cannot begin to comprehend what you must be feeling, mourning over something that we have neither gained nor lost.” John tilted Alexander’s chin so that their eyes met, “My dear boy, should our hopes for this moment be true or not, it will not change my love for you.”

Alexander took in a sharp breath, as if stabbed by John’s words.

“Alexan-?”

“I am scared,” Alex began pitifully, his broken cadence sending a shock straight to John’s heart. “We have waited for so long, tried everything. I had lost hope, and now I fear it, altogether. Hope is just a chance for more heartbreak.”

Alex’s own words seemed to break the dam inside of him, emotion beginning to spill over as the young man suddenly tried to turn away from John in embarrassment.

John captured Alex gently by his arm, rolling him onto his back and lightly pinning the smaller man so he wouldn’t lose his lover to his alarmingly sudden despair. Alex thrashed weakly for a moment, throwing his head form side to side and begging to be released.

“My love, my love, please. Alex, you must look at me, calm yourself.”

 _“I don’t want another child taken from me!”_ Alex yelled, stunning both men into silence.

John’s breath caught in his chest. What could he possibly say to that?

Alex panted and shook beneath John’s tender grip, sobbing as he shattered the oppressing quiet of the room, “I don’t want to hope for a child if it is a farce. I don’t want to disappoint you. To allow premature hope for another child is to have it ripped from my arms again, and I- I know that is something I could not endure.” John’s heart shattered as Alex shut himself off, his voice ringing with dangerous finality, “I don’t want to know the truth until it is certain.”

“You can’t mean you wish to wait to give birth to acknowledge that you are-”

“We don’t _know_ , John!”

John exhaled a steep breath. He was utterly ashamed that he had not shared what he knew of Alexander’s condition with his partner. In all honesty, he thought Alex truly _had_ known, but John hadn’t counted on the man to be so adamant about remaining ignorant to his own changing body, so dead-set on waiting until the truth was glaringly unavoidable. 

All of that, just to shield John and himself from further misery.

“Alexander, give me your hand.”

Alex shot John a look of defiance, his lover leaning over him, strong arms holding him in place carefully, as if he would break otherwise.

“Alexander, please, trust me. Trust in what I know.”

“And what is it that you know? You treat me as if I were a porcelain doll,” Alex shot, his tone bordering on disgust.

John’s voice dropped a few startling octaves, “Please, Alex… I am scared, too.

Alex’s defensive persona deflated almost instantly, his eyes now searching as he gave his lover a questioning look.

“My love, no matter how afraid we may be, we have to be honest with each other and ourselves. We have to trust that if our hopes should end in disappointment, we will still have each other, we will still have Corentine and Vanessa. _Our family_.” John reached down and covered the back of Alexander’s hand in his own, “We have to remind ourselves that there can be no positive outcome if we do not take risks. We learned that lesson during the war. We were reminded of it each time we fought together on the battlefield.”

Alex locked his fingers in John’s.

“We are being reminded of it, now, my dear boy.”

The couple stared at each other in silence for a few beats, allowing breath and mind to catch up with action. Then, tentatively, John began to guide their clasped hands, sliding them up Alexander’s body.

Alex tensed, but did not protest as John carefully watched for signs of distress. Though this needed to be done, he would never push Alexander too far.

John continued the movement slowly, their intertwined fingers brushing over Alex’s thigh, his hip, then coming to lightly caress the soft skin of his tummy.

Alexander’s breath hitched instantly, and John knew that what the younger man was feeling was familiar to him, the confirmation he had been so afraid to seek out now at his fingertips, just as it had been six years before. John wondered at how long Alex had refrained from touching himself, from searching for what had, this whole time, been within his reach. If anyone had that sort of restraint, it was surely his Alexander.

Alex panted out a short, stunned breath and unraveled himself from John’s grip, reaching down with both hands and greedily exploring every square inch of his firm navel, lifting his shirt and excitedly glancing over at John between breaths.

“You _were_ right, oh, John, I-” Alex choked out in heartbreaking relief, hot tears burning at his eyes.

John shifted closer, pulling his arms around Alex tenderly as the younger man began to hiccup with small sobs.

“I’m sorry, John, I’m sorry. I was so scared. I wanted so badly for it to be true, but if it wasn’t I- I didn’t want to know, didn’t want to- it’s just, we’ve wanted this for _so long_. I doubted I could take it if it weren’t-”

Alexander was borderline babbling, his words running together and his speech quickening as he shook against John’s chest.

“My love, be still. Shh. You have nothing to be sorry for.”

The couple rocked gently together. Alexander’s quiet crying fading to soft whimpers, his shoulders shaking now with excitement.

“We- we are going to be parents again,” Alex said reverently, his words barely audible against John’s shirt.

“That we are, love.”

There was a small pause, Alex taking a moment to reach down between them, now unable to refrain from touching his growing belly as if making up for lost time, a stupid smile stretched wide across his cheeks as he felt his child.

John loved to see his partner this way. Happy, as he deserved to be. 

Suddenly, John felt as though he’d never be able to take his eyes off the man before him, his heart so full with love and respect for his partner. 

“I am so proud of you, Alexander,” John breathed, only half-meaning to have spoken out loud.

Alex looked up, a bewildered chuckle escaping his lips, “Proud of me? Whatever for?”

John pulled back to give Alexander and incredulous look, locking eyes with his partner seriously, “Because you have a resilience that is unmatched. You have overcome tragedies unknown to most by employing the talents God has granted you and using those gifts to fight boldly for what you believe is right. You are fearless, you are relentless and you are so _brave_.” John’s hand moved down and connected with Alexander’s over their child once more. “You have given us Corentine. You have given us this family, and you continue to make us whole. If I could give you all the appreciation I had to offer, it would not be enough.”

Alex shifted so that his head nestled comfortably under John’s chin. This was his safe place, his sanctuary. Breathing in the scent of his lover deeply, Alexander felt as though a weight he had been carrying around with him for months had fallen from his shoulders.

He was ready to carry this new weight, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY Alex gets it.
> 
> ALSO, UHM  
> I subsist on comments, so speak up and tell me what you think so far!
> 
> You think it's a boooyyy?? Or another giiiirl???


	13. Within Every Thread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: Sex. All sex. And fluff. But mostly sex. Be warned? Enjoy?
> 
> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Golden rays danced across Alexander’s cheek, rousing him from perhaps the most peaceful sleep he could recall having in months. Alex took in a deep breath, the scent of his partner filling his senses as he instinctively shifted toward the comforting warmth beside him. Strong arms met Alexander halfway, enveloping him lovingly and pulling him closer, chest to chest. 

Love. Safety. _Heat._

A hand, smooth and firm innocently carded through Alex’s hair, fingers parting through his long locks and tugging gently. Alex struggled to hold in a moan, leaning back into the touch. Suddenly, there were lips on his, eager and needy. Then a tongue, rough and hot against his own.

Alex pressed his hips forward, desperate for friction, for attention, for _more._

A chuckle rumbled from the man leaning against him, his body large and looming over Alexander’s smaller form.

Alex shivered, reveling in the feeling of being held and pulled and maneuvered by his lover, John now nipping lightly at the tender skin just below his ear.

“My… My love…” Alexander couldn’t quite organize his thoughts, his words caught in a hopeless jumble somewhere between his brain and his tongue as he began to pant, John’s hands greedily exploring the expanse of his lithe body.

John paused his actions, breathing in theatrically and blowing hot breath against Alexander’s sensitive skin, allowing the man beneath him to jolt in his firm hold before laving his tongue over the raised gooseflesh of his neck.

This time Alexander couldn’t help the moan that escaped his parted lips, John’s body was too heavy against his, his breath too sultry.

“Good morning, my dear boy,” John whispered, his voice gravely from sleep and heavy with something more. _Lust._

When had they last…? Alexander tried to do the mental gymnastics to figure when they had last taken each other, but was cut short in his efforts when John rolled them over, Alexander now fully on his back, John directly above, his bright eyes mischievous and triumphant.

“Oh, don’t look so pleased with yourself,” Alexander huffed, a small smirk betraying his attempt at disinterest.

Instead of answering, John locked gazes with his partner smugly and shifted so that his thigh pressed solidly between Alexander’s legs, causing Alex to let out an undignified squeak before sighing and relenting to the glorious friction, grinding himself down in increments and breathing shallowly.

John couldn’t help but rock his hips as well, watching Alexander fall apart at his touch was exhilarating, and John needed more. More contact, more movement.

After a moment of frustrated rutting, Alex reached up and grabbed John’s shoulders for better leverage, the new power behind his movements pulling impressive moans from both men as they ground together.

John found that he couldn’t take his eyes off his partner as he writhed and whimpered beneath him. God, he wasn’t even touching him, wasn’t even giving his lover a fraction of what he could do and Alexander was already losing himself in his pleasures. It had certainly been too long.

Alexander’s breath began to quicken, his hips moving more erratically, a deep rouge blush burning at his cheeks. John knew his lover was close, but he wasn’t done, hadn’t given the younger man the ravishing he felt he deserved, hadn’t shown Alexander how much he loved him. He needed Alex to _feel_ it.

All at once, John pulled away, leaving Alex frantic and whining, his hips stuttering pathetically as he looked to John through glazed eyes.

“My dear Alexander, always getting carried away,” John chided, his heavy breath tarnishing his bravado.

Meanwhile, Alexander looked all but lost to the world pinned beneath John, his hair now fallen from it’s tie and spread about the pillows, mingling in the morning sunlight and painting them in blotches of golden-red, his eyes heavily lidded and his gaze intense with need, fixed only on John.

_God, he was stunning._

For a moment, John wasn’t certain if Alexander had heard him, then suddenly the young man surged forward, wrapping his arms around John’s neck and forcing him onto his back. John went pliantly, but pulled Alex down with him, the two laughing in each other’s arms at their own ridiculousness.

Giggles and hushes turned into soft kisses, to heated passion. Alex pressed his hips to John’s, the feeling of his partner’s arousal against his own even through layers of clothing was exquisite, but ever frustrating. Alex whined and gripped John’s shoulders once again for leverage as he began to ride his lover’s lap, but was halted as John gripped his hips tightly.

“Need you.”

John’s voice came in a whisper, almost pleading and entirely uncharacteristic, stirring Alexander’s excitement another degree.

“Yes,” Alex managed, still straining to grain friction in John’s restrictive hold.

Then John was peeling away Alexander’s shirt, his own to follow. Chest to chest. The heat, _Lord_ , how lovely it felt. Hot breath against his shoulder, his neck his lips. Intoxicating. Their bodies sliding together and mingling in the ecstasy of the other’s touch.

Alex reached down between them, cupping John in his warm palm and rubbing with just enough pressure, smirking when the man groaned into his shoulder and dragged his teeth over Alex’s tender skin absently.

Alexander shuddered and enlisted the use of both his hands for the task of removing his lover’s breeches and underclothes. With some shifting and more giggling like schoolchildren, John was relieved of all his clothing, leaving Alexander half-dressed and uncomfortable, the evidence of his arousal thick and tightly constricted against the fabric of his breeches.

John gave Alex a wry smile before ghosting his fingers up the smaller man’s inner thigh, Alexander instantly going limp and whimpering for more.

“Is this what you want, my love?”

Alexander could only nod vigorously as John raked his fingers back down his leg, this time digging into his supple flesh.

Having his answer, John grabbed Alex by the waist and hoisted him over so that the younger man was facing away, his back to John’s broad chest. Alex moaned at the movement, opening his legs in invitation.

“Shh. I’ll give you what you want, my dear. You must be patient.”

With a small amount of shuffling, Alexander was relieved of his breeches and underclothes, John taking his time in lowering the fabric off his partner’s hips, reveling in the sounds Alex made as his manhood was freed to the cool morning air.

John took a moment to reach for the vial of oil the lovers kept in their bedside drawer, turning back to find a desperate Alexander rutting shallowly into the sheets.

“Naughty boy, did I not say to be patient?”

Alex only keened in response, words now completely failing the fiery young scholar. John chuckled in amusement and leaned in behind Alexander, a finger now wet with oil teasing at his lover’s entrance.

Alex squirmed and cried out as John pushed in the first finger, shushing the smaller man as he began to drag it out and push back in slowly. Once Alexander began to thrust back into the movement, John carefully added a second finger, steadily widening the space between the two, stretching his lover open gently.

Alexander was all but falling apart, gasping out and reaching back with one hand to grip the back of John’s neck. John removed his fingers with a whine of protest from Alex and began to spread a generous amount of oil onto himself.

Poising himself at Alexander’s entrance, John took a moment to whisper, “My love, are you ready?”

Alex shivered in his arms and nodded, “God, yes.”

With that, John pressed forward, Alex taking each inch beautifully. John groaned in Alexander’s ear, the man beside him shuddering and moaning as John sheathed himself completely, connecting in a way that they reserved for only each other.

John snaked a hand down and pulled at Alex’s leg, cradling just under the knee so that the young man’s hips were open as he began to rock into him. Alex cried out loudly at the movement, never one to be aware of his own volume.

“Alexander, shh,” John hushed as he pulled out to the tip, “We mustn’t wake Corentine. Vanessa.” John’s breath hitched as he slid back in slowly, his thighs meeting the plump flesh of Alex’s rear, the sensation heavenly.

“Our family,” Alex panted almost reverentially, his hand resting on the nearly imperceptible swell of his belly.

John’s heart soared, “Yes, my love. Our family.”

There were no words for the love John felt for this man, not just in this moment, but every minute of every passing day. He could never effectively articulate his feelings to Alexander, the man a reliquary for language, but he could show him, make him feel it within every thread of his essence.

John began to set a measured rhythm, pulsing his hips deliberately, smoothly. Feverish enough to convey his need, tempered enough to make sure that Alex felt the agonizing drag of his arousal, inch by inch, Alex sinking back into each of John’s movements fervently.

Groaning in Alexander’s ear, John pulled at the younger man’s leg, deepening his angle and aiming for what he knew was just within reach. 

“God, John!” Alex abruptly cried out.

_Found it._

Alex continued to vocalize, John gently shushing him as he picked up his pace, kissing and licking and worshiping ever inch of skin before him. He needed more, needed to be closer, deeper. John canted his hips in desperation, ripping a near-scream from Alexander.

“Alex-?”

“There! There… please don’t, don’t stop,” Alex panted frantically.

Words escaped John, unable to say or do anything but nod furiously against Alex, leaning further against his lover, his everything, pulling him closer and speeding his hips, Alex rocking back with the same intensity.

John reluctantly relinquished his hold on Alex’s leg, grasping his lover’s hard arousal and stroking in time to his frenetic thrusts. 

“L-love you. Love you so much,” Alex managed between harsh breaths. John continued his assault on Alexander’s member, the smaller man suddenly tensing and his breath catching in his throat in a silent cry, releasing thickly into John’s hand.

“Alex, ugh. Y-yes.”

John gripped Alexander’s hips hard as he reached his own climax, burying deep in his lover and rocking through the pleasure.

They laid still in the afterglow, holding each other and breathing heavily, listening for any indication of their little family’s waking.

“I love you, too, Alexander,” John breathed into his lover’s hair, his arms enveloping him in a protective embrace, his hand resting over Alex’s middle.

There was nothing more John could wish for in this moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SOOOO...
> 
> THAT WAS THE FIRST LOVE SCENE I'VE EVER WRITTEN AND I'M LOW-KEY SHOOK
> 
> ALSO I'M LIKE, SO SORRY THIS TOOK A MILLION YEARS TO UPDATE I SWEAR THERE WILL BE MORE UPDATES MORE REGULARLY - MY ONLY EXCUSE IS THAT SCHOOL IS WAAAAYYY UP MY BUTT RIGHT NOW. ANYWAY~
> 
> Side note: for anyone wondering, yes, Alex has both sexual organs, and you may be wondering why they did anal and not vaginal. My answer: Idk, I just like butt stuff? LOOOOL
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed <3


	14. You Are a Rarity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: exposition (sorry), self-image issues, Alexander complaining

It was funny how quickly time seemed to pass.

Days, weeks and months progressed like normal, yet, the anticipation of another child always remained at the forefront of John and Alexander’s minds.

By Alexander’s calculations, he would most likely deliver in late January, giving their family plenty of time to adjust and make the necessary preparations for their new arrival. Vanessa already knew of the pregnancy, John explained, however, Alex wanted to wait to tell Corentine, at least until they could no longer hide it. John never spoke to Alexander about this odd request, but he suspected that the young man was afraid Corentine might react badly or become jealous, the two always having a special and exclusive bond. But despite his partner’s hang-ups, John knew that Corentine would be overjoyed to have a younger sibling, the girl having asked them on numerous occasions for a little sister.

By John’s request, Alexander began working more and more from home, taking on less cases and doing less favors for the President, though he still would write in his study into the late hours of the night. As long as Alex was nearby, though, John felt secure. Their child wouldn’t be due for some time yet, but John still felt more comfortable staying close to Alexander in his condition. He would not leave him alone again. He would stay by Alex’s side until their child was safely in their arms, their little family complete.

The couple also vowed to be more prepared for this child’s birth, collecting all the needed supplies and reading the literature and medical journals that were not available to them back when they were expecting Corentine. Quickly enough, their bedroom became stocked with blankets, medical tools and medicine, everything ready months in advance for the delivery. This time, they would be ready.

Alexander opposed hiring a midwife, wishing to rely solely on John for support during the birth. Vanessa agreed to remain close at hand should the couple need any assistance, having helped deliver her own siblings as a young woman. Otherwise, she would remain with Corentine and distract the child in another part of their home during the ordeal.

They had a plan. All would be well.

 _Except_ that Alexander hated to be cooped up. To John’s dismay, the stubborn man would often disappear, leaving the property without his knowledge to go to town, run errands or to just have a change in scenery. In time, though, Alexander would grow too big to ride, and much to big to look as a man should in public.

“You make it sound as though I should be bedridden.” Alex grouched, crossing his arms and leaning back into his desk chair petulantly, his belly now rounded and visible under his waistcoat. It was becoming harder and harder to conceal.

“My dear boy, you know that is not what I mean,” John scolded lightly, setting a hot saucer of tea down on top of the notes Alexander had been working on. “I am only concerned for your safety, should someone notice you in your state.”

“My state,” Alex repeated venomously. “Yes, how dare I be a carrier? How dare I exist in the form God gave me?”

John sighed, pulling up a spare chair and sitting down beside his partner. “Alexander. You know I would have you no other way. But, there are so many who would not accept what we have, what you are.”

“I am not just some creature for others to gawk at, to chain and study.”

“No, but you are a rarity. You are unknown. Different. my unique Alexander.” John brushed the younger man’s cheek with his thumb. “You do not deserve to feel like a well-kept secret, locked away because of what the public would not understand. If I could, under a good conscience, allow you to be amongst the fair people of this nation as you are now, then I would. But the matter is, we cannot be sure that it is safe.

“We could be found out, yes, I know,” Alexander said, quietly, like a child being admonished for unruliness.

“It will only be for but awhile, my dear,” John soothed.

“I know,” Alex said, leaning into John’s warm palm at his cheek. “I do feel as though I’ve missed quite a horrid amount of work.”

The couple laughed together half-heartedly, tapering into a comfortable silence.

“All the same. I do not think anyone would truly do me harm, should I be found out.”

John clenched his jaw. He would not speak to Alexander of the doctor who saw to him the night he fell ill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT IT'S BEEN AWHILE
> 
> Keep reading, I'm gonna finish this sucker soon, just you wait!


	15. Perhaps I Am the One Who Has Been Unkind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: DIALOGUE, pregnancy announcement, Alexander messing with his kid, Corentine being CuTE, Corentine being upset for a split second, Alexander learning to be a better person tbh

Their dinner table was full, laden with fresh meat and vegetables despite the frost. Soon, the late fall chill would turn to frigid winter, and good quality foods would be harder to come by, so tonight, they would feast on what would surely go bad before they began their storage for the season.

Alexander and John sat side by side, Vanessa and Corentine on the other.

“You have outdone yourself, Vanessa.” John complimented, serving himself a helping of potatoes.

“I helped!” Corentine exclaimed excitedly, bouncing in her seat.

“Oh, yes? And what is it that you helped our Vanessa with?” Alex chuckled.

“The meat!” Corentine beamed. “I helped season the meat. Oh! And I helped set the table. I set your place all by myself, Papa!”

Alexander smiled practically from ear to ear. “Is that so? Well, shall I inspect it, then?”

For a moment, Corentine looked fearful, then nodded her head, a determined look crossing her face.

“Very well. Let us see, now…” Alex made a show of leaning in and closely eyeing the placement of the silverware, studying the symmetry of the napkin.

“Papa?”

“Hmm…”

John suppressed a laugh. Alexander was obviously toying with the poor girl. Corentine was practically holding her breath.

Finally, Alex spoke, “I believe…” Corentine leaned forward in her seat, Vanessa snickered from behind her hand, “that you have done an outstanding job, my love.”

Corentine giggled and clapped her hands, quickly stopping herself, remembering her manners at the table. “Thank you, Papa.” She smiled a toothy grin, revealing an empty space where one of her front teeth used to be.

“My goodness!” Alex exclaimed, “Have you lost your first tooth?”

Corentine smiled wider, “Uh-huh! But I didn’t lose it, Papa. I was eating- um… _tasting_ the potatoes Vanessa was making and it became stuck!”

“Really?” Alexander asked, enthralled.

“Mm-hmm. It was very frightening. There was blood!”

“My brave girl, I’m sure you handled it well.”

“I only cried for a moment,” Corentine said, sheepishly.

“Let’s hope there isn’t any blood in _our_ potatoes,” John joked, the table laughing and continuing to pass around their spread.

Alexander, trying his best not to take more than anyone else at the table, carefully spooned his own serving of squash. He had been so ravenous throughout this pregnancy, and though he hadn’t gained much weight other than what was obviously the baby, he felt self-conscious about how much more he ate than the rest of his family. 

John, noticing Alex’s hesitation, cast him a knowing look before tenderly taking the bowl to serve more squash onto his partner’s plate.

Corentine giggled again from across the table.

“What is so funny, love?” Alexander asked.

The little girl went silent, casting her eyes down, “Nothing, Papa.”

“Corentine, it is unkind to keep secrets.” John admonished, gently.

“Yes, Father,” Corentine sighed, then breathed, “I’m sorry, Papa.”

“Whatever are you sorry for, my love?” Alex asked.

Corentine looked distraught, wringing her dress in her little hands and tears misting in her eyes. “I had an unkind thought.” she whimpered, “I’m sorry, Papa, I had an unkind thought about you.” The damn suddenly broke, silent tears trailing down the little girl’s cheeks, a quiet sob shattering Alexander’s heart.

Alex stood from his place at the table and made his way over to where his daughter sat, her head in her hands.

“My sweet girl, come here. Shh,” Alexander cradled the girl to his chest. “There, there, what has you so upset?”

“I-I don’t want to be _mean_ ,” Corentine wailed.

“My dear child, you are not mean. One must be mean-spirited to be so. Do you believe yourself mean-spirited?”

Corentine sniffled against Alexander’s shoulder. “No.”

“I agree. Now, would you share your unkind thought? I’m willing to bet it was not as unkind as you think it to be.”

“I… I just thought…” Another sniffle, “I saw Father giving you another helping and I thought it funny.”

“Oh?”

“Because…” Corentine looked pained to say more.

“Because I’ve gotten bigger?”

Corentine jolted in Alexander’s arms, a look of surprise replacing her distress.

Alexander sighed. He should have told her sooner, been more honest with her.

“My dear child, perhaps I am the one who has been unkind. Your father and I have had news for you, but I’ve since been too frightened to tell you. Do you know why?”

Corentine shook her head, her light curls bouncing around her freckled face.

“I was frightened because adults make mistakes, as well, but we don’t like to admit to them. We all think mean things about each other, we all tell lies or withhold the truth, but what makes the difference between a kind and an unkind person is realizing that what we’ve done is not right. I apologize for not telling you the truth, Corentine. Are you ready to hear it?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“That’s my girl,” Alex said, sweeping a loose curl behind Corentine’s ear, affectionately. “Do you remember when we discussed what makes boys and girls different?”

“Yes.”

“And do you remember that sometimes a person can be born with both a boy’s and a girl’s features?”

“Like you, Papa?”

“Yes, exactly like me,” Alex said with a smile. “Because I was born the way that I am, I can do things that other men cannot. I can have children as a woman can, do you remember when we spoke of that?”

“Yes, but it was quite some time ago. You said that’s how I was born.”

“That’s my clever girl. Yes, that is correct, I-”

Corentine suddenly gasped, “Are you like Mrs. Lewinsky?”

“Mrs. Lew-?”

“My schoolteacher! She’s going to have a baby soon, and she’s gotten big, too!” Corentine began to bob with excitement in her chair. “Papa, are you having a baby, as well?”

John fought back another laugh. Alexander looked so stunned, his mouth gaping open like a fish with no words coming out. He had met his match in his own daughter.

Finally, Alex was able to collect himself enough to answer, “Yes, Corentine. You are going to be a big sister in about four month’s time.”

Corentine let out a sharp squeal and hugged Alex tightly around the neck. “Papa, thank you, thank you, thank you! I am so excited! Oh, I want to know if it’s a boy or a girl. I do wish the baby would come now.”

Alexander chuckled, resisting the urge to reply with ‘I don’t,’ instead hugging his daughter closer and sharing a warming smile with John from across the table.

 _Now_ everything was ready.


	16. A Matter of Weeks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: Corentine being sad because her baby sibling isn't here yet

Winter, now. Beneath the freshly fallen snow the frozen ground remained hardened and cold, the bulbs and creatures within awaiting the warm thaw of spring, still a long slumber away.

Alexander was now truly becoming stir-crazy, struggling to occupy himself in his own home as he could no longer really leave. He was far too big to ride on horseback now, his firm belly swollen and round, obvious even under his winter dressings. He could no longer go into town or to work, else his and John’s life would be exposed for what it truly was.

It all drove Alexander mad.

The only saving grace was the time he got to spend walking with his family. Walking felt good, though his body was now heavy and sluggish. The movement, at least for a short while, was welcome, even in the chilly December air.

John and Alex walked hand in hand across their property, the blonde man rarely letting his partner out of his sight now that the time was approaching. Alex found his protectiveness to be sweet, if not a tad overbearing, but he would take it over not having John near at all.

Corentine was running ahead, calling back to her parents, remarking on the sights up ahead that they had yet to see, urging them forward.

The long narrow drive leading up to their house was quiet, surrounded by trees laden with snow. Alexander had a strange sense of being complete. Of having everything he wanted right here in this moment. Alex laid a hand on his belly, smoothing out his shirt over the tight stretch of his skin. _Well, almost everything. Soon._

Corentine was now back at their side, chatting away about the animals she had seen, the squirrels up ahead. Then, the subject changed.

“Can we go to the park? Can we please, father?” The little girl begged, tugging at John’s sleeve.

John and Alex shared a look before Alex knelt, albeit a little unsteadily, so that he was eye to eye with his daughter.

“Little one, I would love nothing more than to walk through the park with you. However, do you remember when we spoke of how it would be difficult for me to do some of the things that we normally would because of the baby?”

Corentine nodded bashfully, her eyes downcast.

“That’s my smart girl,” Alex praised. “I’ve grown too big to leave our property right now, love. Remember, it’s a secret from everyone that I’m having a baby. I must stay where I cannot be seen, do you understand?”

Corentine seemed to ponder this. “Will we ever go to the park again?” The little girl had tears in her eyes and Alexander’s heart melted.

“We will, of course we will, my sweet girl. We just have to wait for your brother or sister to come first.”

“When will that be?” Corentine whined.

Alex looked to John for help.

“A matter of weeks, my love. Not long,” John supplied, gently.

“Weeks!” Corentine cried, exasperated, “That’s so long!”

“It won’t be as long as you think, dear,” Alex consoled, “In fact, I know of a way to make the waiting seem like a game. Would you like to play?”

This seemed to catch Corentine’s interest. “Yes,” she replied suspiciously, but with a whimsical glint in her eye.

“Wonderful, dear. Why don’t you run ahead and meet Vanessa back inside, your father and I will be there shortly and I will show you how to play our game.”

The toothy smile that Alexander loved so spread across Corentine’s fine features, her missing teeth only making her more adorable as her blue eyes sparkled. “Yes, Papa.”

With that, the little girl sprinted away, paying no mind to her frocks as she hopped through the muddy slush.

“Whatever are we going to do with her?” Alexander wondered out loud, still crouched in the snow. John sidled up behind his partner, leaning down and running his hands under Alex’s arms, lifting his lover off the cold ground and supporting him for a moment as he adjusted to his new center of gravity.

“Not a thing. She’s a fine young lady.”

“That she is,” Alex said, watching Corentine skip away. “We’ll have another fine young one to match her soon enough. She’ll make a marvelous big sister.”


	17. Rise to the Occasion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda an extra fluff chapter, so no warnings really apply, enjoy <3

“Look here, now. See this date?”

“Yes, Papa.”

“Good. That is today’s date. Now, if we flip the page, we can look at the next month. See this date?” Alexander pointed to a small box drawn in ink with a number inside.

“Yes.”

“That is around the date when the baby will be born. We can’t know for sure, but this is when we’ll be expecting it. Do you understand?”

“I think so, Papa.”

“Excellent. Now, the game I spoke of goes like this. Each day when you wake, I want you to take this ink and this quill and scratch off the day’s box, like so.” Alexander made one sharp line through the current date, his makeshift calendar now a countdown to the delivery.

“Now, every day you’ll be able to see how close we are to meeting your new sibling.”

“Papa, you said I’m not allowed to use your quills,” Corentine questioned, slightly shocked.

“Yes, that was my rule. However, you will be an older sister soon, my dear. You are going to have a lot of responsibilities as the eldest child, and I trust that you will be mature enough to care for your new brother or sister, just as you can now care for this quill. Do you promise to be careful with it?

Corentine’s eyes lit up at such a declaration, “Yes! Yes, thank you, Papa. I will take wonderful care of it and the ink! I promise not to spill it.”

“My sweet girl. Accidents will happen; they are a part of life and that is okay. If the ink ever spills come get your father, Vanessa or myself. We will help you clean it up. What I really want is for you to feel comfortable having a responsibility. Make sure the ink doesn’t dry, do not break the quill. When the baby comes, show me the remarkable big sister I know you will be.”

“Yes, Papa!” 

From where he watched in the doorway, John could see the excitement and pride shinning in his daughter’s expression. She was unmistakably Alexander’s daughter, and John had absolutely no doubt that she would rise to the occasion beautifully.


	18. No Answer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: cliff hanger, mild panicky moment for John

John hadn’t seen Alexander in hours.

It wasn’t unusual for Alex to lock himself in the library or hold up in his study to work in peace, often forgetting to come down for meals or to let his family know he was still alive. It was a sort of running joke in the household, though, this sort of behavior wasn’t something John would have expected from Alex so close to the delivery. They had a month yet, but it set both partner’s minds at ease to be close to one another as the time drew near.

When Alexander didn’t show up for dinner, John began to worry.

“Vanessa, have you spoken to Alexander today?”

“Not since this morning, sir. However, I did see him in his study naught but an hour ago.”

“I’ll go fetch him, then.” John turned away and left their dinning room, heading for the stairs, trying not to walk too quickly.

_Alexander was fine. He was just busy, that’s all. Forgotten to eat again, the fool._

The mantra of such calming phrases continued to dance through John’s mind as he lifted his fist to knock on Alexander’s study door.

No answer.

Another knock.

Silence. John opened the door a crack and found the room devoid of life… and surprisingly neat. Alex’s study always seemed to be reminiscent of a war-zone, reflecting the discourse in the young man’s mind, scattered but intelligent thoughts organized in ways that would drive any other scholar mad. To see it in such a divine state was unprecedented.

John crept in through the door, too curious and in slight disbelief.

The haphazard piles of papers that had littered every surface were now organized in neat stacks, albeit still on the furniture. The plates and old coffee cups had been removed and the papers and folders on the desk were now artfully arranged.

John’s eyes were quickly drawn to the one outlier in the room; an open letter lying on the desktop, an official-looking seal and pristine text on the letterhead, addressed to Alexander.

Unable to resist, John picked up the letter and began to read.

John’s blood ran cold. He gripped the crisp paper tightly and raced towards their bedroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry


	19. We Cannot be Certain of Anything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: a couple arguing, crying, Alex and John being cute and figuring it out, Alex being too persuasive for his own good

Alexander had heard John come up the stairs, enter his study. He took in a slow breath and steeled himself, bracing for what he knew was coming.

Then, a rush of footsteps, a voice from the doorway, “What are you doing, Alexander.” 

It was less of a question and more of an accusation.

Alex turned to face John from where he stood by the bed, revealing an open suitcase, half-packed with folded clothes, more garments strewn about the covers.

There was a weighty pause, the two men sizing each other up from across the room. Unfortunately, neither man had ever been inclined to back down in an argument, suspending the static tension well beyond normalcy.

“Packing,” Alexander said unempathetically, turning back to his folding.

“You cannot be serious.”

Alex continued his work silently, ignoring John’s words.

“Alexander, now is hardly the time to-”

“I have to go, John,” The young man interrupted, stubbornly, “I’m sure you know this, as you have read my personal mail.” Alex shot a scathing look over his shoulder.

“Would you have told me, then? Or would I have woken to find you gone?” John shot back.

Alex’s shoulder’s visibly slumped. He felt irrationally emotional as his eyes misted over. He didn’t want to fight right now, he just wanted to do his job. Wanted to do what was needed of him then come home and be with his family. Why was that so hard?

“The President has requested that I-”

“I couldn’t care less, Alex. You are in no condition to travel.”

“There is still a month yet,” Alex replied softly, voice now nearing a whisper.

“There was still a month when _I_ left!” John barked.

The room fell silent. It was oddly quiet throughout the house, in fact, as if the very woodwork were listening.

John regretted what he’d said in an instant, Alexander’s shoulder’s quaking as he held whatever garment he had been folding tightly to his chest. There was a sniffle.

Guilt struck John’s chest like a hard stone. He moved quickly to Alexander’s side, but the smaller man turned away.

“My love, I… I am sorry. That was a cruel thing for me to have said.”

Alex did not turn around, but his sniffling and trembling seemed to be subside a bit.

“I would only wish to see you safe. There is so much uncertainty for us at this time… I fear for you, Alexander. I would fear for your safety if people were to see you as you are now.”

“You truly think someone would harm me?” Alex asked, tilting his head and side-eying John.

“I think people fear what they do not understand. You are a rarity, my love. Misunderstood, by no fault of your own. It would…” John shuddered and tried his best to hold in his emotion, “It would end me if any harm came to you because of my avarice for a family.

Alex turned to face John, his heart breaking at the sight of his lover, eyes red, blonde hair fallen loose.

“It was not only your wish to have a family, but mine as well,” Alex said, firmly, cupping Johns cheek and pulling him closer. “Would it ease your mind if you came with me?”

“Alexander, I don’t-”

“I know you would have me not go at all, but I have been summoned by Washington. It is urgent, and it will only take but a few days,” Alex plead. “We can ride by carriage, John, I will wear my largest coats. No one would be the wiser, we will not need to be seen.”

“And what of your piers? Surely those who have known you will be suspicious. You have always been small in frame and stature.”

“Why, can anyone not gain weight?” Alex jested, rubbing his belly and giving John a playful smile. “I have requested that I meet only with the President. The matter that I have been summoned for will not require me to be in the presence of the rest of his staff. We will be protected, my love.”

“You cannot be sure of that.”

“We cannot be certain of anything in this life,” Alexander said, ominously. “However, I have sent a letter ahead of us requesting privacy and expeditiousness. We shall not be there more than two days, and no one will see us but the President, I assure you.”

John sighed. On one hand, it was absolutely ludicrous for Alexander to be traveling at such a delicate time, so near the delivery. On the other, this was Alexander. John would not be able to stop the man, even if he tried. By the looks of it, he could either allow his partner to go alone in his state, or follow him for the sake of the young man’s safety, and for his own peace of mind.

Of course, John would chose the latter.


	20. Congratulations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: homophobia, shame, George Washington being a dad

The next day at dawn, the first of January, a carriage arrived to their home. The driver paid the family little mind as they said their goodbyes, packing their luggage into the cab.

“Papa, why must you leave? And why so early?” Corentine complained, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“I have been called to meet with the President, little one,” Alex chuckled. “It takes quite a while to get to his office, so we must leave this early to be sure that we arrive on time.”

“Alright,” Corentine relented, staring down at her own shoes. “I’m going to miss you.”

“My lovely girl, I will miss you as well,” Alexander sighed, pulling the curly-haired child close, the size of his nearly full term belly making it difficult to hug his daughter. “Remember our calendar? I want you to keep marking the days until we return.”

“How long will that be, Papa?”

Alexander smiled. “If all goes well, we should return by tomorrow night. Not long at all.”

“I’ll only have to mark one day, then,” Corentine said excitedly.

“That’s correct, my clever girl,” Alexander said, hugging his daughter one last time and kissing her forehead before being helped into the carriage, John following after.

And just like that, they were on the road. The ride to Washington’s office in the city was quite the trip, indeed, lasting nearly four hours.

Alexander and John made the most of this time by going over each other’s notes on certain issues and cases, eventually falling asleep on the other’s shoulder, their hands intertwined.

Neither man felt the carriage come to a halt, startling awake at the sound of their cab door being opened. Alexander quickly shook his hand free of his partner’s, but was unsure if the driver had seen their affection or not.

To his own surprise, Alex realized he was nervous, though he reminded himself that they had nothing to fear. Yes, they were sodomites, but for such an accusation to be made, one would need proof. As long as John and Alex remained platonic in public and Alex could pass himself off as just being overweight, then they would be protected.

What he was most worried about was perhaps seeing Washington once again.

Alexander met with President Washington regularly throughout the year, but had not seen the stoic man in many months. He certainly had not been showing his pregnancy the last time he was in the man's presence, his belly still small enough to be hidden under his clothes.

Now, though, would be a test. Would Washington say anything? Would he notice?

He had noticed when Alexander was carrying Corentine. He had protected Alex from scrutiny, allowed him to keep his position in the army, hiding him away until his delivery. Without these sympathies, Alexander would have lost everything. He and John owed the safety of their family to the President, though Alex wasn’t even sure if Washington knew John was the father.

Nevertheless, the pair checked into an inn closest to the President’s office and settled into their separate rooms, taking all the precautions necessary to evade suspicion.

John elected to explore the city while Alex set off to meet with Washington, sending the young man off with a kiss in the privacy of his rented room and wishing him luck.

Before Alexander knew it, he was standing in front of the polished wood of the President’s personal office door, his heart racing.

“Your Excellency, sir?”

“Ah, Hamilton!” Came a booming voice from within. “Yes, come in.”

Alex entered, reminding himself to stand up taller and suck in his stomach as much as possible, absently pulling his coat tighter around his middle.

“You summoned me, sir?”

“In fact, I did. Sit.”

Alex was grateful for the offer, his swollen ankles sore and aching from the short walk from the Inn.

“How have you been, son? It has been quite awhile,” Washington asked, barely looking up from the parchment he held in his hands on the desk.

Alex resisted the urge to contest being referred to as “son,” and instead relayed a few vague aspects of his personal life, such as the productivity of his garden and the relentlessness of his work.

Washington seemed to be half listening as he shuffled through more of the notes on his desktop.

“Hamilton, I have brought you here to ask something of you.”

Alexander stiffened in his seat, a little prideful, but also hesitant. He was unsure what more he could offer their President.

“You are one of the many men who has labored to lay the groundwork of this new nation. You have not only spectated this country taking its shape, but moulded it. You have a brilliant and capable mind, one that I need on my staff. I trust very few men, Alexander, and you are one of them. In fewer words, I wish for you to become our Secretary of Treasury.”

Alex knew he must have looked stunned, only hoping that his mouth had not been gaping. Secretary of Treasury? Such a high position was what he had always craved, fought for. With little deliberation, Alex accepted the President’s offer, the two shaking hands and drawing up the paperwork immediately.

In an hour's time, Alexander stood to leave, a new folder in his hand with notes on his new appointment. _Oh, how he couldn’t wait to tell John._

Alex and Washington said their cordial goodbyes, the younger man excitedly steering himself toward the door. His hand was on the doorknob when the President spoke once more.

“Oh, and, Alexander?”

“Sir?”

Washington looked Alex up and down before smiling warmly, a knowing glint in his eye. “Congratulations.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *gasp*  
> It's January... you know what that means...
> 
> Last chance to guess the gender. Comment because I'm a slut for itttttt.


	21. A Crescendo Before Alleviation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: FLLLUUUUFFFF, all fluff

When John returned to the Inn that evening Alexander nearly tackled him, bringing the taller man down by his shirt collar for an excited kiss. The couple retired to John’s room for a time, Alexander regaling the specifics of his meeting with the President proudly, motioning broadly with his hands as he waddled around the bedroom, unable to be still.

John felt his heart fill for his partner. To once again be a part of Washington’s staff was a true honor for Alex, though this time it was for the benefit of the entire nation, not just their army. This was where he knew Alexander had always dreamed of being, and though they would have to make changes in their lives to accommodate such an outstanding position, John knew it was right for Alex, for their country.

His partner was capable of greatness, and John would never stand in the way of that.

The couple talked until close to midnight, making plans, excitedly preparing themselves for the large changes to come in the next few weeks.

Never would they ever imagined to have such a life back when they were merely aides-de-camp, marching for hours on end, nearly starving and constantly in the line of fire. So much had changed. They had changed.

“We were so different, so young, then,” Alex mumbled to himself sleepily, absently rubbing the dome of his belly as he reclined in John’s bed.

“We are still young, my love, we have simply become wiser.”

“Speak for yourself, I feel as though I have aged a millennia!” Alex complained, grunting as he attempted to sit up.

John took pity on his partner and reached out to support Alexander’s back as he sat. “You may feel better in a few weeks. I am sure carrying such a weight has taken a great toll on your body.”

“That may be an understatement,” Alex chuckled, rubbing at his stretched sides. Soon, it would be much easier to walk. And breathe. And ride a horse… in general every simple task Alex had taken for granted would be manageable again. He couldn’t wait.

Or… he could. There would, after all, be a crescendo before the alleviation.

John seemed to notice this confliction written on Alexander’s face, rubbing at his lover’s back soothingly. “Are you afraid?”

“I… yes.” Alex made his answer sound like a question. “I know that all will be well. I know that I can endure the pain, as I have done it before, but…”

Alexander glanced down at his swollen tummy, the child inside moving and kicking against his left lung, earnestly.

“I do not look forward to it. I only anticipate holding our child in my arms. I wish so badly to meet him.”

“Him? You think it a boy?”

“I think it a kangaroo, at present.”

The couple shared a laugh, John resting his hand to join Alexander’s on the top of his stomach.

“No harm will come to you, either of you. This I swear,” John whispered so that Alex wasn’t sure if he had been meant to hear.

A comfortable silence took hold, Alex and John feeling their child’s movements together in the cozy dark of the room.

After awhile, Alex spoke, “I should retire.”

“Yes,” John replied, breathily. “Though I do wish you could stay.”

“As do I, but we will not be parted for long. The carriage will arrive at dawn, and it is already well into the early hours.”

“I shall still miss you,” John said, playfully, pinching at Alexander’s thighs as he stood.

“Stop that, you scoundrel. There will be time for that later.”

“Will there, now?”

“If you behave. Now, I bid you goodnight, sir,” Alex threw back, good-naturedly.

The two shared a kiss at the door, deep and longing, fingers twinning in hair and foreheads bumping. The last thing Alexander wanted was to be separated from John, even if it was only by a wall, though he knew it had to be. Just for tonight.

The couple parted reluctantly and settled into their respective rooms, bedding down for a short night before another day of travel.


	22. Fantastically Untimely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: early labor, lies, Alex being a human disaster

Alexander was awoken not by the light of dawn, as expected, but by a painful, incessant twinge radiating from his lower back. Even with the curtains drawn, Alex could tell it was not yet time to rise, the light of the moon still strong, the stars still prevalent in the night sky. Still, he sat up in his bed and stretched, attempting to alleviate the discomfort in his spine.

Lower back pain was common, especially this late into a pregnancy, though, something felt oddly different about this sensation. It was less of an ache and more of a constant pressure, the feeling akin to the slow shifting of bones.

_Oh… no._

Alex shook himself free of the covers and made to stand, gasping as he felt how low his child had settled in his hips, making him stagger with the new center of gravity.

Alexander held is breath for a long moment, standing stock still in the middle of his dark room alone, waiting.

Then came what he had suspected.

A small, weak contraction bloomed, the muscles in his abdomen fluttering along to a tight tempo, his child kicking in protest at the shrinking of its home.

Alex let out a slow breath through it. The contraction had not been entirely painful, just uncomfortable and fantastically _untimely._ He was not supposed to deliver for over three weeks! Then again, Corentine had made her entrance early as well.

 _Stupid._ How could he have been so adamant in traveling such a distance from home so near the delivery? Dammit, he should have known. Should have waited. John had tried to stop him, but he had only argued, gotten what he wanted, and now look where it had landed him!

 _Think. Think!_ What could be done to rectify this?

Alexander remembered back to his study of childbirth, to his own experience when Corentine was born. The contractions were not serious yet, that was a good sign. A journal he had read stated that the time in between contractions was an indicator as to how soon the baby would arrive. This coincided with what Alex recalled when he had labored with Corentine, the contractions intensifying and coming closer and closer together before he felt the urge to push.

By that logic, the severity of his current situation would depend on how long it would take for another contraction to begin. So, he began to count.

Ten minutes shy of half an hour later, Alex felt the start of the next contraction, the young man halting his pacing to breathe slow and deliberately.

_So, twenty minutes, then._

Another good sign. If what Alexander understood about birth was correct, it would take at least a day for the contractions to progress into something unconcealable, certainly more than four hours. For now, and for the duration of the carriage ride, he would be able to endure these small pains. He was sure of it. Their chance at a comfortable birth at home was still within reach, there was only one problem.

_John._

If John knew the state Alexander was currently in, he would never allow Alex to enter the carriage, refuse to allow him to travel. He would want for them to stay in the city, though Alex wasn’t quite sure where they would go. There were hospitals, sure, but would anyone truly take no notice of their unconventional family? They could legally be refused assistance, shunned and left to deliver their baby on the streets.

Alexander felt his heart race just thinking about the misfortune that could befall them, should they stay. His decision was clear, he had but one choice.

_He would not tell John._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo, here we go, guys!!


	23. Make it Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: labor, Alex being a complete idiot

Finally, back in the carriage. Four hours. Only four. Alex was certain he could manage that. After all, Corentine had taken nearly forty-eight hours to arrive, and if this child was to be anything like its older sister, then Alexander expected this delivery to be just as prolonged.

Time was on his side. He could do it. He could remain silent for the carriage ride, then surprise John with the news of his labor after they would be settled in at home. Perhaps he would even have enough time to spare to have a bath and something small to eat before things got too serious.

Alex confidently settled in to the corner of the carriage, John taking the seat next to him. The lovers intertwined their fingers after the cab door closed, John giving Alex a meaningful look, pure love and raw emotion in his eyes. Alex’s heart dropped.

Should he really hide this from him?

Labor was a long, drawn-out process, Alex rationalized. It wouldn't hurt John to not know about the minuscule pains he was having, in fact, it would save his partner the extra hours of worry. After all, Alex had experienced the entirety of childbirth on his own once before, he was confident he could handle this first stage alone again.

Alexander and John made small-talk, held hands as the carriage pulled down the first road of many between them and their home, setting out for a moderate journey.

Silence fell over the small cabin as it rocked and carried them back to their family. After a short while, John began to nod off, leaning his head and shoulder against the wooden cabin frame and snoring lightly, leaving Alexander to his own devices.

In the quiet of the cab, Alexander had nothing much else to do but try to ignore the tight, incessant pain that blossomed in his hips and womb intermittently. It was manageable, but something felt off.

The pains seemed to be worsening more quickly than expected, feeling more severe than Alex had remembered to be characteristic of early labor. Alex let out a long breath at the end of a contraction and began counting the time in between to the next one, for curiosity’s sake.

Alex nearly choked when a new contraction began around the six minute mark.

Six minutes. _Six minutes?!_

Alex shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he tried not to panic. He had not anticipated the contractions to pick up so abruptly. He hadn’t even been laboring for more than six hours and he was already beginning to feel the familiar intensity of the later stages of delivery.

This was wrong. With Corentine, Alex had been having small, aching pains for a day, progressing so slowly that he hadn’t even realized he was in labor at first. This labor felt different. Faster, smoother. _Hopefully more manageable,_ Alex thought, bitterly, as the contraction peaked, then slowly released his already aching muscles.

That contraction had hurt much worse than the last, tempting Alex to hiss or groan, to grip at his navel and grimace, but instead, he blew out a long quiet breath, careful so John wouldn’t hear.

An accelerated labor was surely not what Alexander had expected at all, compared to his last delivery. Thinking back, Alex wasn’t sure he would have gotten in the carriage had he known he may not last. Either way, it was too late, now.

The unexpected possibility of giving birth in a carriage away from their home, their sanctuary, suddenly hit Alexander hard. The air of the cabin felt tighter, harder to take in air as he fought to rationalize his decisions, settling for a garbled mantra of commands.

_Make it home, have to make it home. It is not safe. Hold it. Ugh. Breathe, blow out the pain. John mustn’t know._

Alexander struggled to control his breathing, the fear of being outed to his partner for lying combined with another tight contraction stealing the air from his lungs. Alex bit his lip, willing himself to remain strong. Remain silent.

This was all wrong. Somehow, the contractions felt stronger, far more intense than Alex had remembered them during his previous delivery. Perhaps because this labor was progressing so quickly it was more strenuous on his body? Alexander couldn’t be sure. He only knew his job was to keep quiet and safely have his child. _At home._

_Keep it together. Make it home._


	24. Alone, For Now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: John being cute, Alex being dumb, labor and lies

John was abruptly jostled awake by a particularly harsh bump tossing the car. Taking a moment to fully wake himself John glanced blearily over to Alexander.

The young man seemed to be resting, his head and shoulder propped against his side of the wooden frame. Something seemed off, though. Even though Alex appeared to be asleep, his body looked tense, sweat beading at his neck and forehead. To John, Alex looked almost pained, his eyes screwed shut, hands cradling his large tummy with his fingers twisted tightly into his shirt. The man looked to be having an intense nightmare, his breathing shallow and quick.

Concerned, John rested his hand on his partner’s shoulder and shook it gently to rouse him. Alex shook awake quite quickly, eyes darting around frantically before finding John’s.

“My dear boy, are you well? Were you having a nightmare?”

Alexander took a moment longer than usual to answer. “No,” He choked out, before rectifying, “I mean, yes! Yes. I am afraid I was.”

“Oh? What about?”

“Nothing of importance,” Alex shot. “Please, John, just… I would go back to sleep, should you let me.”

“Oh... apologies. Yes, go back to sleep, love.” 

Alexander tried not to feel guilty at the downtrodden tone of his partner’s voice. He was only trying to help, but Alex had to fight this battle alone, for now.

He had done it before, dammit. He could do it again.


	25. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: again, labor and Alex being thick-headed

_Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. Exhale. Slow, quiet exhale. Good._

Alexander had lost all perception of time, feeling as though they had been riding for a day when really, they were only about two hours into their journey.

It was becoming a struggle for Alex to remain silent through the contractions, the pains having increased in intensity and frequency just in the last half hour. The pressure low in Alexander’s pelvis was building immensely, bringing forth instincts that Alexander remembered well.

Two hours left. Could he wait that long? Perhaps if he resisted the urge to move and bare down when the time came he could possibly make it, but Alexander was sure it would become obvious to John what was happening by then. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stay silent up to that point.

John needed to know, but…

 _No._ He could make it. Two hours was not that long and Alex had done this before, considered himself to have a decent enough pain tolerance plus experience from Corentine’s birth to trust himself to keep quiet. Even if John _did_ discover what Alex had been hiding, he was still resolute in giving birth at home, and _only_ at home. He would make this work, he would make it home, no matter what.

Alexander startled at a soft hand tenderly shaking his shoulder.

It was John, asking him something. Was he okay, did he have a nightmare?

Alex couldn’t think of a legitimate answer, he only wanted silence. Needed to concentrate on breathing and not crying out. He brushed John off. It was wrong, it was mean, but what choice did he have?

John couldn’t know, not yet. They had to make it home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He's had so many chances... *face palms*


	26. You're Not Alone, Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: same as the last three, tbh. I swear the next chapter will have some new shit, lol

A piercing yelp roughly dislodged John from his nap, the blonde man snapping to attention and glancing around the cabin suspiciously, eyes quickly focusing on Alexander beside him.

John’s heart nearly stopped.

Alex was leaning back heavily in his seat, his hips thrust out, in more of a reclining position than sitting properly. His cravat had been loosened and his hair was a mess of red, loose pieces falling from his normally pristine ponytail, his body glistening wetly with sweat. Alex choked back another abrupt sound, biting down harshly on one of his hands as he attempted to muffle his cries, his other hand gripping his swollen belly, desperately.

Noticing John’s movement, Alexander looked to his partner helplessly, eyes pleading. Their gazes locked as Alex tensed with another contraction, stiffening in his seat and moaning around the hand in his teeth. John reached out and grasped at his partner’s knee, his shoulder, trying to ground the man as he shook. Alexander’s moan turned into a rough-edged scream as the contraction reached it’s peak. Once the pain faded, Alex removed his hand from his mouth and began panting harshly to keep his breath. John noticed blood forming on the back of Alexander’s hand.

“Alex, what is this- are you…?”

Alex only responded by nodding his head violently, taking in small gasps of air and rubbing his hands over his tense belly methodically. John watched in dismay as Alexander struggled to breathe, barely keeping his head above water.

_Now? This was happening now?_

This was so sudden, had the pains just started? Did all births begin at such a level of severity? Alexander had claimed labor to be long and arduous, so was the entirety of their child’s birth to be such a terrible strain on Alex? John felt himself panic slightly. He didn’t want to see Alex in such agony, and certainly not for such a drawn out amount of time. John was almost certain that Alex had told him that the pains of labor would start out slow.

Then it hit him.

“Alex,” John said rigidly, “How long have you been laboring?”

Alex cast John a guilty look before groaning as another contraction tore through him, the young man leaning into the tight cramping in his navel and quaking as he held his breath.

John watched dumbfounded for a moment before he realized what was happening and dropped his accusations in favor of supporting Alex.

Moving quickly and tipping his lover’s chin up, John spoke, looking directly into Alexander’s eyes. “Breathe, my love. You must remember to breathe, yes?”

John’s voice was soothing, grounding, reminded Alex to take in a shaky breath and exhale it sharply, then to repeat. The pain ended later than the last had, Alex noted, the contractions running longer and closer together, less than two minutes between each one.

He wasn’t going to make it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody got caught...


	27. I Won't Make It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: labor, apologies, John being supportive, mild PTSD, my attempts at humor

One moment, Alexander had been fine. The next, he was struggling not to scream, poised to deliver their child at any second.

If John didn’t love this man, he would have surely tired of this sort of whiplash ages ago.

They had had a plan. A quiet, safe delivery at home. Just the two of them, warm and calm with everything they would need on hand. They could never have prepared for this, hours away from their sanctuary and supplies, in a carriage with a stranger driving them. 

John was kneeling now, crouched between Alexander’s knees, gripping the young man’s hand and rubbing at his thigh in a poor attempt at comfort. Alex let out a another yelp before cutting the sound off sharply and sucking in a breath, holding it. He was trying so hard to be silent, to be strong. John realized that his partner must have been enduring like this for hours now, alone. 

_The absolute fool._

John, of course, was more than just a little frustrated with Alex for hiding something so serious from him, however, he had to remind himself that Alex was scared, too, even more so than he was. This situation may have been avoidable, but then again, maybe not. Who could say what would happen if different decisions had been made? The fact was, they were here now. Their baby was coming, and John knew he needed to keep a level head, support his partner.

Though, despite all of their research and preparations, John felt ill-suited to see Alexander in such a state, his lover writhing and moaning from the pain. It reminded John of battle, the men he could not save calling out to him, crying, covered in blood. He had left them behind. He had to. They could not have been saved… the war was still raging. Gunshots. Canon fire. Pain in his shoulder. He couldn’t save them all. Alex, where was Alex? He wouldn’t leave him behind. Never.

“J-John,” Alexander whimpered desperately, pulling the blonde man back from the dark precipice of his mind.

John struggled to let the memories go, to be unaffected in this moment, for Alex. “I’m here, love. Please, tell me what to do. What do you need?”

John tired to sound confident in his tone, but Alex could feel his partner’s hand shaking in his grasp.

“I- _Nngh.”_ Alexander’s grip on John tightened, a new contraction radiating though him, plateauing and then sharply jumping up to a new, unanticipated peak.

Alex cried out harshly and curled forward, dropping John’s hand and gripping the sides of his belly, his legs stiffening with the force of the contraction.

John watched helplessly as Alexander’s scream tapered off into a low moan, then a hum. The young man now seeming to be in a sort of trance. Oddly, it reminded John of when Alex would be working on a case or an essay. He would shut himself off, enter a state of deep concentration in which the wold seemed to be mute to him.

 _At least one thing could be familiar in all of this,_ John thought, sourly.

Alexander’s contraction ended, the young man now breathing heavily, his dissented belly rising and falling rapidly with each desperate intake. John took out his handkerchief and dabbed gently at the sweat on Alexander’s forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Alex panted, so lowly it was almost a whisper. He looked utterly exhausted.

“Whatever for?” John asked, knowing full and well why Alexander was apologizing.

“I didn’t tell you… feeling pains since early this morning. Th-thought I’d have time. Didn’t want to worry you. Took so long last time, but… oh, God, John, what have I done?”

Panic rose in the cadence of Alexander’s voice, his breathing picking up as he began to hyperventilate, tears forcing themselves free and trailing down Alex’s sweaty cheeks.

John immediately moved forward, rising up on his knees and pulling his lover to his chest.

“Alex, my Alexander, I need you to breathe with me, now. Shh, follow my breath.”

“It wasn’t s-supposed to be this way,” Alex sobbed into John’s shoulder, “I c-can’t do this, not here. It’s my fault. We have to m-make it h-home.”

“Shh, don’t talk, now. Just breathe. We will be alright, my love, I promise. Just breathe evenly, like this…”

John made a show of taking in a deep breath, then audibly blowing it out, then repeating. Hardly a moment passed where Alex could follow along with John’s exaggerated breathing before another contraction began to build within him, starting at a steady incline before shooting up to a new, excruciating peak.

“Ah-agh, J-John… I don’t think I can… stay quiet… for- _nnngghhhhh!"_ Alex screamed through gritted teeth, trying with all his might not to do so, but failing as if the contraction itself were forcing sound from his lungs.

John watched on in horror as Alexander succumbed to the pain, vocalizing and shaking with the intensity of it all. John’s heart raced, his mind now blank. What could he possibly do? There was nothing for him except to hold Alexander’s hand and encourage him. How utterly helpless of a feeling this was, a special kind of torture that John would gladly have traded for Alexander’s pain.

Alex went slack against the seat as the contraction ended, his body shivering from an odd mix of pressure, excitement and stale agony. He had once vowed to never go through this again. _God, why was he going through this again?_ He would have to remember to admonish John for it, later. Right now, though, he could hardly take a breath.

“I… I won’t make it, John,” Alex managed between pants. “It will have to be here.”

“Are you certain?” John asked, breathily. This was all happening so fast. “We are so close to home, Alex, can you not fight it?”

Alex shot John the most intense glare he had ever had the displeasure of being on the receiving end of. “If I could magic such nonsensical wishes into reality, I would not be on the verge of delivering our child in a carriage in the middle of the woods in the first place!” Alex yelled defensively, quaking with anger and the tension in his body.

John had no rebuttal to that, nodding his head sheepishly as a blush tinted his cheeks.

Alexander took a breath as if he were about to continue his scolding, but was promptly cut off by another rising pain. Alex gripped John’s shoulders for support as he leaned into the contraction, moaning, then screaming through the worst of it.

As the pain ramped back down, Alex leaned back once again, this time shifting his hips slightly and grimacing at the movement, the young man seeming to gauge the severity of the situation by consulting his laboring body.

John felt the need to ask questions, to comfort Alex, to say _something._ Anything to fill the silence. Talking was all he was good for in this moment. _My God, he had become Alexander._

Alex beat John to the punch, though, with an offsetting declaration.

“I will need to bare down soon.”


	28. Are You Implying I Have Put You Through Hell?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: banter, this couple being cute, still labor, pushing phase, DRAMA, GUN VIOLENCE WHAT

“You- no, Alex, perhaps we can make it if-”

“I told you, it cannot wait, John!” Alex hiccuped.

the young man was obviously frightened. His body was taking control and John knew there was no changing that. Still, the birthing process was a difficult concept for him to grasp, as he was not the one experiencing it; the overwhelming urges that were overtaking Alexander’s laboring body and mind.

A few more contractions rolled through, each adding to the unyielding pressure in Alexander’s hips, until it was just too much.

“I think I… I think I need to push,” Alex choked, his mind warring with his own instincts.

“Ah-Alright, yes, um, what do I-?”

But Alex already appeared to be acting on instinct, leaning forward and widening his knees as he began a forceful push, grunting with the effort.

“Oh!” John nearly jumped out of his skin, unsure of how to help in this phase. It seemed right, almost by instinct, to aide Alexander by supporting his legs. So John did just that, reaching out and placing his hands on Alexander’s knees, he widened them further and moved them back.

Alex leaned into the counter pressure and groaned, the sound peaking into a long wail as he continued to bare down.

The contraction faded, leaving both partners breathless and panting, John realizing he had been holding his breath the entire time.

Running his hands over Alexander’s outer thighs in a half-hearted play at consolation, John suddenly noticed something.

“Alex?”

The younger man gave a short grunt in response.

“Your, ah… your breeches are still on.”

Alexander leaned forward slightly to get a view of his legs over his belly.

“...So they are.”

All was silent for a beat.

Then laughter. Both men giggling at the ridiculousness of it all. The expedited labor, the carriage, Alexander’s pants. What were they doing?

“John, I am sorry,” Alex breathed. He could feel the small window between pains closing fast.

“I know, love. You’ve given me quite the scare, but it is a small price to pay for our beautiful family. I would endure hell if it would mean I could spend eternity with you.”

“Are you implying I have put you through hell?” Alex jested, his voice tired.

“Only for the past hour,” John returned with a smile.

Alexander smiled back, genuinely. The situation could have been better, but at least John was at his side. Having him here, having his support and comfort meant the world to Alex, the difference between giving up and persevering. 

Another contraction was beginning to stir, John prepared himself as he read the look of discomfort on his lover’s face.

“Breathe, love. Breathe first, then bare down.”

Alex nodded and took in a shaky breath before curling forward into another push.

John held Alexander’s legs wide, realizing again, too late, that they had still forgotten to remove his breeches. _So much for being prepared._

Alex began humming as the contraction intensified, the hum phasing into a guttural scream, loud and sharp in John’s ear. Alex gasped and leaned back, groaning from the lasting ache of his effort.

“That one was… worse,” Alex breathed.

Before John could even think to ask how the pain could possibly be worse than what he’d already witnessed, the carriage swerved violently, throwing the two men onto their sides.

The carriage seemed to steer off-road as the wheels bounced roughly over the unfit terrain. Suddenly, they came to an abrupt halt. John was splayed out stupidly on the cabin floor while Alexander lay on his side in the seat, clutching his belly and breathing harshly.

“What happened?” Alex asked, meekly.

John sat up, looking disheveled. “I’m not sure,” John took in the poor state of his lover, his hair now completely fallen loose from it’s ribbon, skin glistening and clothes rumbled on his body. John reached out and placed a hand on Alexander’s cheek, his eyes searching. “My love, are you well?”

Alex chuckled. “Is the answer not obvious?”

“You know what I mean.”

Alex sighed. “I am not injured, no. But I would very much like for this ordeal to be over. A bath would be exquisite,” Alexander answered with a tired smile.

John’s heart melted.

A loud bang startled the couple out of their stolen moment as the carriage door was forcefully thrown open, the metal barrel of a pistol, glistening in the noontime light, appeared in the doorway, aimed directly at Alexander.


	29. Like an Angry River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: gun violence, threats, outing, accusations, John being reckless, a really really bad situation tbh
> 
> Ya'll aren't ready for this cliffhanger.

The vastness of the world had suddenly shrunk to one small sliver of reality: there was a gun pointing at Alexander.

Suddenly, John was back on the battlefield. He could almost taste the ash and smell the decay, his fever to protect and take action overriding his rationale. Only one thing mattered.

John flung himself between the pistol and Alexander, shielding his lover completely, his chest taking Alex’s place in the line of fire.

Fearing the worst, John had braced himself for the familiar sting of a hot bullet, prepared himself to say goodbye to Alexander and the child he would never meet.

Instead, silence.

No bullet, no blood. Not yet.

The owner of the pistol stepped forward, the look of absolute disgust that colored the man’s features set John’s blood to boil. The young man was their carriage driver, holding his gun aloft, still aimed at the couple as he glared at the disheveled men before him.

“Get out.”

Alex gasped.

John moved to speak, but their driver shouted over him, “Now!” The young man motioned sharply with the pistol in his hand. The damned thing, if there were a way for John to snag it, oh, this boy would regret ever having used them as a target.

But for now, they were cornered, and John could to nothing. Begrudgingly resigned to comply to the carriage driver’s commands, John slowly began to rise, his hands raised. John waited for Alex to do the same, glancing behind him to assure that his partner was also being complacent. To John’s dismay, Alexander seemed to be in the midst of another strong contraction, biting into his wrist to muffle his discomfort as he remained on his side.

Panic shot through John like a bullet, “Alex-”

“I said _get out!”_ The driver yelled.

“Can you not see that he can’t?!” John brazenly tossed back, stunning both the driver and himself.

Alex let out a rough-edged moan from where he lay behind John, the young man clinging to his belly and attempting to raise his knee, though the effort seemed futile.

The driver looked repulsed. “You have until the count of five.”

“Please, just allow him a moment-”

_“Now!”_

“Fine!” John bellowed. He fiercely turned to Alexander, still curled in on himself in the seat, whimpering now.

“John, no, please. I can’t- we cannot stop here, I’ll die.”

“You _will not,”_ John argued helplessly, fighting the swell of tears in his eyes as he hoisted Alex up into his arms, the smaller man yelping at the sudden movement.

With great care, John stepped out of the carriage and into the frigid January air, Alexander cradled tightly to his chest. Each footfall was agony, knowing that they were leaving their only shelter, their only haven in this wilderness that could have been safe for the birth.

As gently as he could, John laid Alexander down in the wet snow, gripping the young man’s jaw in a tender hand and bringing his ear against his lips.

“I love you,” He whispered simply.

Alex made a small choking sound as John stood, breaking away from his partner’s frantic hold to face their driver, the man still holding his pistol out at arm’s length, the barrel aimed straight through John’s chest.

John spoke calmly, “We are in desperate need of medical attention, if you would only-”

“I didn’t think you to be indecent,” the driver cut in, sharply.

“What?”

“I thought perhaps you were colleagues sharing the carriage fare, one perhaps a little more well-fed than the other,” he shot a caustic look at Alexander. “Then I observed the way you looked at one another, the way your hands met. Disgusting! I had hoped I was simply imagining things.”

“Whatever your accusation may be-”

 _“You are lovers!”_ The driver shouted, the dense, snowy forest around them soaking in the echoes.

“What we are is none of your business nor concern,” John returned, coldly.

“It becomes my business when your bitch is screaming and delivering your bastard in my carriage!”

Somewhere inside of John, a dam broke. With blatant disregard for his own safety, he stormed forward like an angry river, threatening to engulf all beneath him. The driver raised his pistol higher, aiming for John’s head as he pulled the trigger.


	30. Flecks of Crimson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: labor, gun violence, fist fighting, blood, death threats

A meager ‘snap’ echoed off the boundless trees surrounding them.

A misfire, no bullet had left the pistol’s chamber; a one in a million chance.

John continued his advance, a raging bull, reckless and uncontrollable.

The driver took a startled step backward but John was already upon him, blind with fury. With a sickening crack, John drove his fist into the driver’s jaw, the young man stumbling, but not falling from the force of it. Blood seeped thickly from the driver’s lip, his jaw set askew at an unnatural angle.

Both men were at a standoff, their breathing labored as they calculated their next play, the driver roughly snapped his jaw back into place with a sickening noise. This man was unexpectedly tough for someone smaller in stature in comparison to John, that hit hadn’t seemed to phase the young man too terribly. This would be a hard fight.

John could hear Alexander behind him, panting and groaning. He needed to be there with him, needed to end this so that he could be by his partner’s side.

Then, Alex screamed out piercingly, the sound stirring birds from the treetops.

John turned, overwhelmed by impulse. The driver took his opening.

A hollow, metallic crack sounded through the clearing.

 _“No!”_ Alexander screamed. John fell to his knees, blood flowing from a deep gash on the side of his skull, tainting the pure snow beneath him with flecks of crimson.

Alex watched in horror as John lost consciousness and hit the ground, the driver standing over him, blood dripping from the rounded silver of his pistol.

Was this to be it? Was this how they would die, in the forest with no one to find their bodies? Corentine would grow up without her fathers, her sibling. All alone with Vanessa, a shell of what their family had once been.

Would she thrive, Alex wondered. Would she move on? Lord knows he hadn’t when he was forced to give her up all those years ago. And if he were to leave her now, in this moment, there would be no coming back, no reunion as there had been before.

The driver unceremoniously stepped over John’s limp body and crouched next to Alexander, a filthy hand reaching out and pulling sharply at Alex’s damp hair.

“You’re lucky I haven’t the heart to kill you, myself,” the driver whispered in Alexander’s ear. His breath smelled like rot and decay. “You’ll suffer here. You won’t make it home on foot.” The driver glanced down at Alexander’s swollen navel, rising and falling with each panicked breath, “Not in your state.”

Alexander’s breath caught in his throat.

“But perhaps you have a chance…” The young man pulled Alex closer so that they were nearly nose to nose. “So here’s the deal, _carrier._ I leave you here, alive. You either perish, or you miraculously survive and forget that we crossed paths.”

“And why… would I… do that?” Alex panted defiantly, another pain ramping up, stealing his breath away.

The driver leaned in impossibly closer, his lips ghosting against the shell of Alexander’s ear. “Because, no one will be on your side.”

Alex bit his lip. _He was right._

As abruptly as the driver had halted their carriage, he forcefully slammed Alexander back onto the frozen ground by his hair and stood, surveying the scene for a brief moment before clamoring back onto the front seat of the carriage and urging the horses forward.

The crack of the reigns faded with distance as Alex fought against another contraction.


	31. Determination Like No Other

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: blood, worry, self-hatred, a really bleak situation

White.

John’s vision was all white, blurred shapes tumbling around him. He remembered the fall, the biting pain against his head. Darkness.

Then, a voice. A weight on his chest. Fingers at his neck, a cool hand on his cheek.

“Please, John, please, you cannot leave me like this…” The voice begged, it sounded so fractured, so scared.

Then, a searing pain burning at his skull, pressure being placed on the wound. 

John called out, tried to jerk away from the irritation, but was held down by a firm hand at his shoulder.

“My love please, you must wake. We cannot last like this,” the voice wavered, frightened, though it carried an undertone of determination like no other. John knew that voice. Then there were cold lips brushing against his ear. “Wake for me, love. For our child.”

_Alexander._

Everything came rushing back. John eyes shot open as he gripped the most beautiful man he had ever seen, his Alexander, leaning over him worriedly.

Alex looked a mess, but then again, John supposed he did, too. He could feel his hair matted where he had bled, was still bleeding? It was of no matter, his injury was not a priority. He began to sit up.

“My love, no, please, you mustn’t-” But John ignored him, forcing himself vertical in his lover’s arms. The world seemed to spin around him, but he ignored it, grasping Alexander’s shoulders tightly as he steadied himself.

“Did he hurt you?” John ground out.

“No.”

Alex held a bloody handkerchief in his hand, and for a shocking moment John thought it was his partner’s blood. _It was his own._

Alexander, in labor and ready to deliver, was fussing over _him._ This was all wrong, it should have been the other way around. What kind of partner, of father was John if he couldn’t even care for Alexander in this moment? He could never forgive himself for being so neglectful.

After all, he had been the one to carry Alexander from the safety of the carriage. Now, here they were, stranded, with nothing but the cold snow and the ravenous creatures of the forest around them. _And it was all his fault._ He was injured, they had no way to retrieve or call for help, and Alex… surely he couldn’t be moved now.

If the cold wouldn’t get to them by nightfall, then the animals would. The smell of blood, thick and metallic, already surrounded them. They would be hunted, the new prey of the forrest.

Alex began to quiver, pulling John stiffly to his chest, “I th-thought I’d lost you.” John could hear the tears in his lover’s voice. “I thought… thought I’d be alone again.”

John crumpled against his partner at those words. He had failed. He had failed when Corentine was born. He had failed now. They were going to die out here and no one would ever know. He hadn’t protected Alex, hadn’t kept him safe. What could he have done differently to have changed this outcome? He should have refused to leave the carriage, fought harder. They were going to perish and it was entirely his fault.


	32. No Matter The Outcome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: labor, regret, assurance, fluff in a sad way I guess

John shook in his lover’s hold, the men weeping, clasping each other tightly as the sun progressed overhead, heavy winter clouds diminishing the midday light to a dismal, gray hue.

_“Alex.”_

Alexander looked up, completely shocked at the sheer anguish resonating in his partner’s voice.

“I am so… so sorry.” John began, his face hidden in the crook of Alex’s shoulder. “I couldn’t protect you. We are going to die here and it is my fault. You have always deserved better. You could have found a wife, lived normally and had children the _right_ way.” John sobbed. “It is because of me that you have met this end. Had I not seduced you into my life, you would have become so much more than a carrier. You’d be indistinguishable. Normal. You…”

John struggled to continue, the words lodging in his throat as he babbled, knowing none of his apologies could ever rectify his theft of Alexander’s life.

Hands pulled John from the depths, Alexander cradling his cheeks harshly as he forced his lover to meet his eyes.

“John,” Alex spoke firmly “You must know that I do not think so little of you. Never have I felt my life stolen from me. I chose to love you, to grow a family and a life with you. You above all others should know that normalcy is not what I want for. I would see a thousand suns pass overhead before I live a modest life. You make me who I am, John. I would be nowhere else, chose no other life than this one here with you, no matter the outcome.”

John fought against another wave of emotion as Alexander brought their lips together, chastely. 

“Now, listen to me. We haven’t time…” Alex trailed off, his face contorting in pain with another contraction. John gripped his lover tighter, supporting him at the elbows. “Into the forest. We have to- _uugh!”_

Alexander vocalized through the rest of the contraction, rising up on his knees and resisting the urge to bare down as best he could.

When Alex relaxed, John lifted the small man carefully into his arms and stood. The world swam, setting John to stumble and fall to one knee, Alex still cradled to his chest.

“John-?”

“I am well,” John breathed, “I need but a moment. Let me try.”

Alexander didn’t argue. It was either be carried or walk, and he wasn’t sure if he could manage the latter. After a pause, John stood once more, breathing the cold air in deeply before taking a shaky step forward. Alex watched the road disappear behind the tree line as they entered the dense quiet of the forest.


	33. Shelter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: labor, survival in the wilderness, fear of birth complications

Remaining at the roadside would have been a gamble. On one hand, the couple would have been able to flag down any passerby and ask for aid. On the other, their best kept secret would be exposed. There was no guarantee that whoever would pass them on the roadside would be friendly to their situation, and John feared he could no longer fight should another altercation arise.

All the same, Alexander needed shelter, and the forest was the only answer they had for the time being.

John made note to not carry Alex too far into the forest, keeping close to the tree line so that they could still view the road, but far enough in that they could not readily be seen by travelers. John didn’t expect there to be too much traffic in the midst of winter on this back road, anyhow.

Truthfully, they were on their own.

A large tree with a thick and weathered trunk stood out amongst the other varying spruces and pines of the forest. It was old, wise; its thick branches creating a dense canopy above them, the boughs hanging low with the weight of the snow, closing them in. It was the best shelter they could manage now, John supposed.

John stooped over and attempted to lay Alexander down against the aged bark, but Alex struggled against him.

“Let me stand.”

“My love, it would be best if-”

“No,” Alex protested, flatly. John noted that the laboring man seemed to be entranced again, concentrated and lost within his own mind. Perhaps he would know what was best. After all, Alexander had done this before. 

John was careful to support Alex as he slowly took his full weight onto his feet, breathing deeply and reaching out to place his palms on the rough exterior of the tree. Alex huffed and began to hum, rocking his hips from side to side gently. John wasn’t quite sure what to make of this behavior, but he suspected it was a way to deal with the pain. He wondered to himself if it at all helped.

As little as he wanted to leave Alexander’s side, John resigned himself to searching the immediate area for supplies. At home, they had blankets, water, sheers and medicine ready for the birth. And what did they have now? The clothes on their backs, their luggage ridden away with the carriage. 

Striking at least a bit of luck, John found a few rocks that could be struck together until sharpened. They would have to do in the stead of sheers. Water? Freshly fallen snow was all around them, thick in the branches overhead and beneath their feet, but was far too cold for them to consume, and especially too cold to clean their newborn with. They would need to stoke a fire, but such a feat would be near impossible with the forest so wet from the snowfall.

That left blankets and medicine. There would surely be no herbs alive at this time of year, and if there were, John didn’t know of them. As for the blankets, John removed his overcoat, steeling himself against the chill and placing it around Alexander’s quaking shoulders. Their coats would have to do.

Alexander didn’t seem to notice this gesture, continuing to rock and hum, deep in meditation.

John left a worried kiss on his lover’s forehead and ventured off in search of unsaturated wood.  
He only made it a few feet away, however, before Alexander began to groan from where he supported himself against the tree.

“My love, tell me what to do,” John was by Alexander’s side in an instant.

Alex didn’t answer, only moaned louder as John looked on helplessly. Alexander didn’t appear to be baring down during this contraction, but John thought it better not to question a process he knew so little about. Instead, he laid a hand on Alexander’s back, rubbing gently so that at least the laboring man would know he wasn’t alone this time.

When the contraction ended, Alex slumped against the ancient tree that was now their sanctuary, huffing in distress.

“Something is wrong.”

“Wrong?” John repeated, lamely.

Alex nodded his head absently, rocking his hips again. “Not making progress,” Alexander managed, shortly, putting his palms back onto the tree for support.

“Progress? But-”

“The child ins’t moving down.” Alex said, a spike of anxiety distorting his evened tone.

John blinked, shocked. He wasn’t sure how to remedy this. “Perhaps you should sit?”

Alexander shook his head. “I’ve sat through much of this ordeal already. I need to move.”

Without waiting for John to catch on, Alex began a slow circuit around the massive tree, one hand keeping contact with the bark for support, the other cradling the lowest part of his belly. John followed closely behind, unsure of what to do. Alex didn’t seem to notice that he was even there.

A handful of contractions passed, Alexander halting his shuffling for each pain, enduring but not baring down. He seemed to be searching for something within his own body, waiting. This was all very confusing to John, but he refused to question Alex. They couldn’t trust anyone but each other in this moment, and he refused to make Alexander feel insecure.

Suddenly, Alex halted, letting out a long groan and leaning into the tree, bending slightly at the knees.

“Alex, are you-?”

 _“Finally.”_ Alex panted, relieved.

Alexander seemed to sense John’s perplexed expression even though he kept his own head down, a small smile playing at his lips.

“My water has broken.”


	34. Relief

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: labor, exposition, flash back (kind of)

Alexander recognized the sensation.

When Corentine was born, pressure had built and built in his hips until it just… released. Not completely, of course, but the loss of a fair amount of fluid had taken the edge off, at least until the next contraction, the intensity of his labor increasing ten fold to move his baby down in the final stage.

Alex had been waiting for that feeling again. Waiting for the rush of fluid to tell him to start really pushing. Though, contrary to how quickly this labor had been progressing so far, the rush of fluid seemed to be taking its time. This had all happened so fast, yet now that he felt the need to bare down, he felt as if there were a wall between his child and the world.

With every push Alexander gave the pressure in his strained body built to a painful crescendo, never releasing as he expected. The overbearing weight of anxiety began to squeeze and constrict Alex’s chest. He needed to do something different. Move. Go. Walk. Anything. His child was ready, he was ready, but the pressure was in the way.

Circling the tree was all he could manage with the pains coming nearly on top of each other. As he shuffled around the massive trunk, Alexander drew the parallel in his mind to Corentine’s birth, how he had walked around in circles in his little army tent in a futile effort to escape the pain. Now, all Alex wanted was to be able to bare down and feel his progress.

Walking. Pressure. Walking. Pain.

Then, finally, a release.

Alex didn’t mind the liquid as it trickled down his legs, he only felt the bliss of relief. Relief from the pressure, relief in knowing that his child was not stuck, dying inside of him. Relief in knowing that it was finally time.

Alexander had never been more ready for anything in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will the baby be born in the next chapter???
> 
> Even I don't know because I'm uploading these as I write them. XD


	35. Then, Push

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: labor, graphic childbirth, death acceptance (no one dies in this chapter, the characters just think that they will), angst, I'm so sorry

Never would Alex have ever thought he could have given birth in a worse situation than he had with Corentine. Now, he could only _wish_ to have such luxuries available to him as he did then.

Here, they had nothing but the clothes on their backs and the waning daylight.

Nevertheless, it was time. Alexander could feel his baby in position, low and heavy in his hips, his water had finally broken and he was now seated on John’s coat that had been laid out over the snow, his back supported by the solid tree that sheltered them.

It was deathly cold, the winter sun too weak to shine through the dense branches above them. John remained close, always leaving a hand on Alexander’s thigh, his shoulder, as he organized the few scraps of supplies they had. Then, John took of his undercoat, exposing himself to the winter chill, protected only by his shirt and waistcoat.

“John, don’t! You’ll freeze!”

“And I would gladly do so to see you not meet the same fate,” John returned, sternly, placing the warm fabric over Alexander’s bent legs. “Now, let’s not forget to remove your breeches this time, yes?”

Alex tried not to laugh, but couldn’t help a letting a giggle escape at the memory of their blunders from before. Alexander immediately felt guilty for such an outburst; this was serious, John could die without his outdoor wear. More than anything, Alexander wanted to protest, but for once in his life, could think of no compelling argument to his favor. Their first and foremost priority was their child, even if sacrifices had to be made. It killed Alex to think about, so he focused on the man before him, now tugging gently at his pants.

“Jack?”

John successfully removed Alexander’s breeches with a satisfied smirk, humming in acknowledgment as he folded them to the side.

“I love you.”

John paused and locked eyes with his partner, his hand coming to rest on the top of Alexander’s knee. “And I, you,” his other hand coming to caress the softest part of Alex’s cheek, “My dear boy.”

The couple smiled sadly at one another, knowing full and well that this was very likely their last act together, the frigid, deadly winter air already nipping painfully at Alexander’s bare feet. Alex let his eyes drift shut and tried to accept that they could do little more than see the birth of their child before succumbing to the elements, their little family complete, if only for a brief moment. Alex thought to Corentine, wondered how she and Vanessa would fare without them. What a bright young woman she would become, the daughter of two outspoken, unyielding men. She would no doubt do marvelous things one day, Alexander only wished he could live to see them. He wished he could have said a more heart-felt goodbye, told his daughter how much she truly meant to him. How much he wished he could bring her tiny sibling home safely to her.

There was so much yet that he could have done, but wasn’t that life? No one knows when or how they will end, they can only do their best with each day. Had he done that? Alex wasn’t sure if he hadn’t taken some of his time on this earth for granted, but there was nothing to be done about that, now. At least in their final hours, he and John would be side by side.

The tight, corded pain that Alexander had been expecting began stir, his muscles contracting to move his child into the world. Alex took in a harsh breath, the frigid air piercing like knives in his lungs. John rested both his hands on Alex’s knees and gently moved them apart settling in closely between his legs. 

“Alexander, are you ready?”

Was he? Would he have a choice if he wasn’t?

He was not ready to die, but he _was_ ready to bring his second child into the world.

“Yes,” Alex breathed harshly, the pain stealing his voice away.

“Then, push.”

Alex nodded, bracing his hands on the cold ground for leverage and curling forward into a strong push, holding the force of it for as long as he could.

The contraction was nearly done when Alexander had to stop for air, taking in a deep, quick breath and bearing down slightly as the pain ended.

“Wonderful, my love, that was brilliant.” John praised. rubbing at Alex’s legs, attempting to keep his lover warm. He and John had been lawyers for so long that he had forgotten his partner had once wished to be a doctor.

“You have an inspired bedside manner, Jack,” Alex panted.

“Only towards the patients I care for,” John returned with a weak smile.

“I am honored, then,” Alex said, leaning back against the rough bark of the tree, shifting uncomfortably.

“How did that contraction feel?”

Alex considered this. “Excruciating, but not overbearing. The pressure from the fluid was what had caused me so much agony before, though, the pain will start to become overwhelming again, soon enough. You’ll see.”

“I would rather it didn’t, for your sake.”

“You and I both.”

The couple remained in silence, waiting for the next contraction. John methodically swept his hands up and down Alexander’s legs, drawing Alex into an almost trance-like haze. Alex felt that he could have fallen asleep had it not been for the next rising pain, calling to him back to the task at hand. Again, Alexander leaned forward into his middle and bore down, hard, grunting and holding this pressure, then gasping out when he felt his baby shift down, suddenly.

 _“Ah!”_ Alex yelped in surprise, “John, it’s coming fast!” he warned before catching his breath and bearing down once more, the child sliding down through his hips and settling there, stretching his bones wide.

Alex vocalized loudly as the pressure built to be too much, his wails ringing through the quiet forest around them.

John was taken aback, utterly unsure of what to do except console Alex as their child stretched him, now bulging at his opening, “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay, my love. Just-”

“I can feel him, John! He’s so close. Ugh, there is so much _pressure_ …” Alex weakly tried to adjust his hips, praying for another contraction to come so that he could move his child forward and out of his pelvis. This baby felt to be much larger than Corentine had been, but perhaps that was only his imagination. Alex hoped that to be so, anyway.

Another contraction began to bloom, Alex swearing as he felt the baby rush forward with hardly any effort of his own. His body felt unprepared for such a quick birth, but there was no stopping nature as the babe forcefully began to descend once more.

John gasped out suddenly, completely in awe of what he saw before him. Just barely, visible only as Alexander pushed, was the top of their baby’s head, wet and bloody and _theirs._

“Alex! Oh, Alex, I can see him! You’re so close, my love, keep going, just like that.”

Alexander didn’t answer, only grunting with another forceful push, their baby’s head peaking through once more, this time much more clearly. Suddenly, Alex began to wail, his cries peaking in to a high shriek as he halted his pushing, their child slipping back inside, nearly hidden again.

“H-hurts!” Alex yelled. The young man had a feral look about him, wild and panicked as he squirmed uncomfortably and struggled to take in air.

“Yes, I know,” John began. He could only imagine this to be the most painful part of giving birth. It certainly _looked_ to be. “But you are so near the end, my love. Our child is right here, I can see him.”

“He’s coming too fast!” Alex cried, “It’s too much. I’ll break!”

“Then slow it down,” John encouraged, “Push lightly. Let your body do the work.”

Alex considered this as another contraction ramped up. His body had forced the child out without much help thus far, perhaps if he focused on his breathing instead of pushing, his child would ease out more gently, giving him more time to adjust to the stretch.

With that hope, Alex began to pant, his breath the only tool he could think to use to keep himself from bearing down too hard as the contraction reached its peak.

Sure enough, the child progressed with little extra effort, pushing further forward than it had the last time. Alex groaned roughly as the baby stretched him wider, but maintained his breathing as the contraction came to an end, the child only slipping back a small amount, this time remaining visible at his entrance.

Alex let the contraction go with an exasperated sound. This child was definitely larger than Corentine had been, he could feel it in the circumference of the baby’s head. John was right, he would have to let the child come slowly if he did not want to be torn apart. However, the thought of prolonging this agony seemed a cruel joke to Alexander. If they were to die anyhow, what would be the point in taking such precautions? To protect Alex from hemorrhaging, from bleeding to death? That sounded like a much better fate than living to watch his child freeze in his arms, his partner soon to follow. Should he survive the birth, he would very likely be the last one to perish.

Perhaps it was selfish, but Alexander did not want to live to experience such heartbreak. To lose a child again, then his partner would be too much for him. He would rather die peacefully, with his baby’s wails in his ear as he quietly drifted away from blood loss.

Leaving it up to fate to decide for him, Alex gave a powerful push when the next contraction came, curling himself over his belly and widening his legs. He could hear John’s voice, his pleas for him to stop, stop! Slow down! But Alexander tuned him out as he felt the widest part of their child’s head inch through him.

Unfortunately, the contraction faded then, the baby’s head pausing at it’s broadest point. Alex vaguely registered that he was screaming, his throat raw and torn as his voice echoed around them. Everything seemed far away. The pain, his body, John’s voice.

The forest suddenly grew darker, was the sun setting? Then darker still, until there was only the pitch black of unconsciousness.


	36. Threads Not Yet Cut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WOW IT'S BEEN AWHILE, I'M SORRY.
> 
> Anyway, in this chapter: angst, labor, acceptance of the possibility of death (no one dies in this chapter, though), Alex being stubborn, John being supportive af

_Alex!_

_Alexander, please, you mustn’t!_

_Please, please, please..._

“Wake!”

Alexander’s eyes snapped open. There was a rough hand on his shoulder, another on his cheek, shaking him awake; John’s eyes in front of his, creased with worry and wet with tears.

“J…” Alex tried, weakly, before shuddering and gulping in a much needed breath of air.

“Alexander! My love, don’t speak. Please, just breathe. Just…”

John trailed off as he watched Alex take in short, deep breaths, his frighteningly pale complexion gaining back a bit of its color as he did so.

Alex could feel another contraction threatening to begin, but he ignored it for now. “How… how long-?”

“Only a moment,” John answered, tersely. “But, to me, it felt an eternity.”

“John, I’m-”

“I could have lost you, Alexander.” John muttered, fist clenched. “For an instant, I thought I had lost you both.”

“I did not mean for such an offense,” Alex panted, the returning pain now undeniable, “I only wish for this to be over.”

“And kill yourself in the process? My God, Alex-”

“We are all going to perish here, are we not?!” Alexander’s words rang through the dense forest around them, the two men falling into a heavy silence, save for Alex’s strained breathing.

John was the first to speak, at a whisper, “We do not know that to be true.”

“We know it well, John. There is… _ugh!_ … t-there is no other outcome, and I would rather die first than… _nnngh_ … than see our child perish in my arms.”

John’s spirit was breaking. He had remained strong for the both of them up to this point, but he could not deny the truth in Alexander’s words. Their situation could not be helped unless a great deal of luck were to come their way. Otherwise, they were at the mercy of the winter’s bitter cold and the beasts of the forest. By all logic, they would most likely lose their lives on this night. But by John’s reasoning, they could either be complacent as death came for them, or fight for their lives together for as long as they could.

_Fighting._

Wasn’t that what they had done all of their lives, anyhow? Alex more so even than John. Poor Alexander’s life had only ever been a battle, so why now should he stop? If they were going to indeed die, they would do so only when no other options remained. They would either miraculously live, or die fighting together, side by side, just as they had on the battlefield. They were army men at heart, after all. There would be no honor in merely accepting the lot that had been given to them.

Alexander seemed to be in the throes of another contraction, obviously fighting the urge to bear down with his body rigid against the tree while his hands frantically felt around the frozen ground for something to cling to through the pain. John suddenly reached out and grasped Alex’s hands, pining the younger man’s wrists to the earth, leaning his larger body over his partner so that Alexander’s attention would have no where else to go.

“Alexander, I ask you to listen to me now.”

Alex refused to meet John’s eye, stubbornly turning his head away.

 _“Hamilton!”_ John roared, utilizing a commanding tone that Alexander had not heard since their time on the battlefield. Alex couldn’t help but jolt in surprise, snapping his eyes back to his lover above him.

“Good. Now, hear me, our fate has not yet been written, our threads not yet cut. We would not be the men we are today had we not fought for everything we have, you especially, my love. I have never known you to give up, so why should you do so now?” John leaned back onto his knees, releasing Alexander’s wrists and holding out his hand in an offering. “I beg you, fight with me. Persevere against the odds as I have always known you to.”

Alexander was utterly torn. He trusted John with all that he was, but… the cool embrace of death was a charming substitute for living falsely for a few extra hours. However, something John said was eating at him, that their fate was not yet sealed. Had his fate not been sealed as a child, a bastard, alone and orphaned on an island? Or when he had been alone to give birth to Corentine? No, he had not perished then, so why should he be resigned to do so now?

With an unsteady hand, Alex reached out and grasped John’s, firmly, the couple making a silent pact as the sun sunk further to the west.

There was no guarantee that they would survive, but together, they would fight like hell to see their family once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO UPDATE I KINDA HAD A THING HAPPEN WHERE I GOT, LIKE, SUUUUPER SICK. BUT ITS ALL GOOD, I'M BACK AND-
> 
> ThE SToRy iS alMoST DoNE.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's stuck around! I LITERALLY LOVE YOU ALL.


	37. Give Me Your Hand, Look What You've Done

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WOW I'M BACK WHOA
> 
> In this chapter: graphic birth, birth complications, screaming, supportive John being supportive, a little doctor!John, a whole lotta fluff, AND A BABY FINALLY
> 
> THIS IS A LONG CHAPTER I'M SORRY THERE'S A LOT HAPPENING

Alexander began to pant harshly as another contraction took hold, John now back between his partner’s legs as the younger man worked to bring forth their second child.

Unfortunately, the top of the baby’s head had slid back a significant amount after Alex had fallen unconscious, much of the young man’s previous efforts being wasted. The good news, however, was that from John’s vantage point, Alexander had not torn, meaning that as their child moved forward once more, there would be a low chance that he would do so at all.

“Remember, gentle pushes,” John cautioned.

Alex smiled in response, despite himself, “Yes, yes. I’ll remember to not… _hah_ … be so reckless this time ‘round.”

John returned the smile and patted Alexander’s knee supportively, watching as the young man leaned forward into a light push, grunting as the baby’s head inched forward.

“Excellent, love. Another.”

“Give it a minute,” Alex panted, the contraction ending.

A quiet moment passed, then another pain began. Alex again curled inwards and bore down, gently, the burning at his entrance intensifying to an excruciating level as the babe’s head surged forward and stretched him once more. 

Despite the small amount of force Alexander was putting into his pushes, he could feel his child descending rapidly, in a rush to be born. Alex cried out and began to huff as the contraction faded, the babe slipping back only a few centimeters, resting firmly and visibly at his opening, the top of its skull now much of the way through.

“That was perfect, Alex. Just breathe, you are nearly there,” John encouraged.

Alex could only manage to nod weakly in response, his mind occupied solely by the overwhelming sensation of his flesh being stretched so tight it could tear, the impossible weight in his pelvis, shifting his bones.

Another pain; Alexander began to pant to keep himself from baring down too strongly as the child forced itself down of its own accord. In an instant, the babe’s head was again edging at its widest point. 

_“Nnnnnnggghhh!”_ Alexander began to vocalize through gritted teeth, the sharpness of the sound morphing to a sharp whine as the contraction ended.

Instead of taking in a breath, Alex felt himself begin to hyperventilate. This was happening both too quickly and not quickly enough, and somehow, the pain was far worse than he had remembered. This child was larger, what if it would not fit? What if the pain would only grow worse? What if-

“Alex?”

Alexander opened his eyes. _When had he closed them?_ John’s striking blue eyes were focused on him, concerned, his hand now resting on Alexander’s tight belly, rising and falling with each quick, unsatisfying breath. _God, why couldn’t he breathe?_

“Alexander, I need you to breathe slowly, now. Look at me, follow my breath and do as I do.”

John visibly began to breathe in deeply, then blow out audibly so that Alex could follow along. For a moment, Alexander struggled to slow his breathing, to take in air, but then John’s hands were upon him, rubbing at his thighs, his belly, his shoulders, soothing and grounding and calming him down. In minutes, Alex was able to match John’s rhythm, the air now filling his lungs and clearing his mind.

He was alright. John was here with him. He had the support of his partner, and that was all he had wished for during their second child’s birth. Though, noting their current surroundings, perhaps he should have wished for a bit more.

Regardless of the bleak situation, the couple remained optimistic, breathing together on the forest floor. The reprieve was short lived, however, as Alexander felt another contraction rising and the child shifting forward on its own.

The intense burning returned ten-fold as Alexander did his best to ease the babe out slowly. All he had to do was make it past the widest part of the head, and then there would be some relief, for a short time, at least. With a powerful groan, Alex bravely pushed along with the searing pain, feeling his child’s head slip to its broadest point, then past it.

“Good! Yes, love, just like that!”

Alex could barely register John’s cheering, his concentration completely on the intensity of the pressure, the burning, the action of moving his child _out._ His legs shook with the force of another push, his efforts now focusing to pass the eyes, the nose, the chin…

Alexander’s groan morphed into a rough-edged scream as the babe’s entire head popped free, a fair amount of fluid gushing out with it.

“Lord! Alex, the head is out!” John laughed, excitedly, cupping the skull of their child in his palm. John fought back a surge of emotion at the contact, his heart instantly melting as he felt the warmth radiating off their child’s soft crown of blonde hair, it’s little face in his hands.

Alexander seemed to take no notice of John’s newfound affection as he panted and waited for the next contraction. The head was out, which could be considered the hardest part in terms of initial pain, however, Alexander remembered the shoulders to be just as challenging, if not more so.

John, however, was lost in the beauty of seeing his child enter the world before him, enthralled with just the view of their baby’s tiny head, now turning in his hand. Alexander moaned from above him, feeling the child move, as well, its small body positioning itself, preparing for the final push.

During this lull between contractions, Alexander felt the instinct to move. He was now sure that this child was much larger than Corentine had been: he needed to widen his hips, open his legs for the shoulders. John seemed to catch on as Alex struggled to find purchase for his feet in the snow, shushing his lover as he carefully supported Alex by his thighs and pushed his legs back and outward.

“Better?”

“Perfect,” Alex breathed, feeling the start of another contraction.

In a moment, Alex began bearing down, hard, determined to have the shoulders out as soon as possible so that it could all be over. However, the contraction peaked, then miserably died down without the child progressing forward much at all. Alexander groaned in frustration and leaned back against the tree’s bark dramatically.

“Be still, my dear, you are very close,” John soothed, still holding Alex wide. “Try again on the next pain.”

Alexander resisted the urge to sass his partner by replying with a ‘that is what I intended to do,’ and instead began to hum as he waited for another contraction.

When the pain finally came, Alex picked himself up off from the tree and supported his weight with his palms on the frozen ground, pushing as hard as he dared to deliver the rest of their child.

An inexplicable pressure built as Alexander bore down, the babe refusing to progress further even as Alex gave it his all. By the time the contraction ended, Alexander was sure something was wrong.

“John…” Alex said, weakly. He was so exhausted, yet so near the end. _This had to end._

John stirred at Alexander’s withdrawn tone. “Alex, what’s wrong?”

“The child it… I believe it to be stuck. I can’t- it won’t move.” Alexander was shaking now, John could feel it as he held his lover’s legs, the young man was _frightened._ This was something neither of them had expected, something Alex had not experienced during his first delivery.

But what was to be done? If a child became stuck, it usually meant death for either one or both the mother and baby. John’s breath halted as he realized that he could lose both Alexander and their child all at once. He would lose neither had he the power to decide.

In reality, though, all John had was some basic knowledge of human anatomy, which fortunately enough, seemed applicable to their situation. If what he remembered of the pelvis was true, then either the babe’s shoulders were caught on the ring of bone it was passing through, or the child was simply too large for Alexander to deliver.

John felt himself shrink back at the last possibility. Should that be the case, there would be nothing he could do to save his partner.

John considered what could be done knowing this, seeing as their child was already partially free. The babe’s position could not fully be reset, but if the issue, as John prayed, _was_ with the positioning of the shoulders, then perhaps he could nudge them free, provided that Alexander would allow him.

It would be worth it to try.

John spoke softly, as if to a lost fawn, “My love, listen to me. I may know what is amiss and how to help, but I need you to understand what will need to be done.” Alex only stared at John blankly, so he continued, “I believe the child’s shoulders may be stuck. If you would allow me, I can try to dislodge the them by inserting my fingers-”

Alexander flinched at those words. The thought of anything else stretching him open was terrifying. Was he not already at the breaking point? Surely he would tear. Alex retracted into his calculations of specific outcomes, all of him bleeding out or enduring even more senseless pain, but then there was a soothing hand on his knee, urging him back to the present.

“Alexander, I know you are frightened, but I cannot lose you now. Not you, nor our child. Please, let me try to help.”

“Save him.”

“What?”

“If it comes to it, save the child. Cut me open and save our son, John.” Tears were now falling form Alexander’s eyes. “If I die, you and our son may have a chance. You can move faster without me, make it home before nightfall-”

“Alexander, no.”

“Jack, I tell you-”

 _"No._ I will lose neither of you.” John said, firmly. “Now, will you allow me to assist you, or not?”

Alexander faltered for a moment. “I… _ugh!”_

Another contraction grew as Alex held in a sob and bore down, this time only half-heartedly. John watched on, deciding to embolden Alexander verbally in lieu of taking immediate action. Perhaps the babe wasn’t truly stuck, perhaps Alex was only fatigued…

“Harder, Alex! Really try!”

 _“Ngh!_ I- I can’t!” Alexander cried, exasperated.

“Yes, you can! You’ve done this before all alone, without me or anyone. If I were to leave right now, I know you would persevere.”

 _“No!”_ Alexander wailed, seizing John’s wrist in a tight grip, not quite grasping John’s well-meant encouragement. “Please, John, don’t leave. Please don’t leave me alone to do this again.”

John’s heart sank. “No! No, my love, I would not leave you. Never. I was simply trying to-”

“I don’t care!” Alex yelled, “Please, just do what you think will help. Neither the child nor I will last like this. Please…”

“Yes… yes, of course. Let us change positions and prepare.”

The couple shifted, John instructing Alex to lay on his back and to hold open his own thighs so that his pelvis would remain wide enough for the child to pass through while John used his freed hands to assist the child.

John again knelt between Alexander’s open legs, positioning his fingers at Alexander’s opening.

“Ready?”

Alexander nodded, certain that he would, in fact, _not_ be ready for any added pressure to such a sensitive area. Regardless, John pushed forward, gently squeezing two fingers in alongside the baby’s neck. Alexander gasped and began to groan against the added stretch, resisting the urge to move away from John’s ministrations.

“Shh. I know, I’m sorry, love. I will be quick,” John consoled, dragging his fingers around the base of the child’s neck in search of a shoulder. Suddenly, Alex began to feel the familiar tightening of a budding contraction.

“Ah- John!”

“Don’t bare down! Not yet,” John warned, coming into contact with a shoulder that felt to be lodged tightly behind Alexander’s pelvic bone. Alex began to hum loudly as the contraction intensified, John could feel his partners muscles tightening around him as he gently worked their child’s shoulder down and inward toward’s its chest. John held the freed shoulder in place as he waited to see if the babe would slide forward.

Alexander’s hum transformed into a strained wail as the pain reached its peak, his body involuntarily baring down on their child, still stuck tightly in his canal.

“God, John, please!” Alex cried, desperation taking hold. 

John began to panic. If one shoulder wasn’t enough, then the other shoulder must have been stuck just as firmly, and Alexander could only take so much.

“Alexander, I need you to breathe and not bare down. We are almost done, I promise.”

Thankfully, the contraction faded, allowing John to insert, much to Alexander’s discomfort, another set of fingers along the opposite side of their child. Sure enough, John found the other shoulder to be lodged squarely behind Alexander’s pelvis, bent at an odd angle. Should he have not intervened, John was unsure if Alex or the baby would have survived the delivery.

Careful not to be too rough with their unborn child, John nudged at the stuck shoulder until it, too, contorted enough to fit through Alexander’s narrow passage. John carefully held each shoulder in place, fearing that if he should let go, they would go back to being caught behind the bone.

“John, please…” Alex breathed weakly. Another contraction was ramping up, John could feel the muscles once again compressing around his fingers. 

“Now, Alex! Push!”

Alexander hardly questioned the command, gripping his thighs tightly and baring down with all his strength. To John, this moment was oddly surreal, the feeling of his partner’s powerful efforts in moving their child into the world was astonishing, and assisting in such an act, holding their child in his own hands as it made way into the world was _humbling._ John felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes as the babe’s first shoulder popped free.

Alex yelped at the release. John pulled lightly as the second shoulder came into view.

“A little more, Alex. Harder, now.”

Alex held back a scream as the second shoulder came free, only the baby’s midsection and legs remaining. Their child was half free, existing between the waking realm and his mother’s womb, his little body cradled in John’s hands. 

It all felt like a dream. After all that they had been through this day, they were about to become parents again under the most bizarre of circumstances.

Alexander began to heave in breaths as the contraction ended, his body now truly exhausted and weak from such a taxing delivery. Concerned, John caught Alexander’s attention.

“Dear boy, look here,” John motioned down with his chin. “Give me your hand. Look what you’ve done.”

Though Alex couldn’t truly see over his belly or the coat laying over his legs, he allowed John to take his hand and guide it under the warm fabric, his fingers meeting something soft and wet, larger than expected, but still small and fragile all the same. _His baby._ Alexander choked back a sob, his hand now moving of its own accord, feeling the expanse of their child’s tiny chest, shoulders and head.

“He’s perfect,” Alex whispered, allowing his tears to fall once more.

“Now, we don’t rightly know that it is a boy, yet,” John teased, his own tears clouding his vision.

“I don’t care what it is, just as long as it comes _out.”_

John did his best not to laugh, knowing that Alexander wasn’t being entirely facetious. This day had been arduous for the both of them, however, he was more than proud of Alex and his endurance through such an ordeal. The fact that he had done this on his own the first time made John appreciate how capable Alexander was in overcoming the worst situations, and it only made his heart grow warmer for the young man.

The couple reveled in the quiet bliss of the moment, their hands cradling their tiny child’s frame together, supporting him as he waited to be born completely.

Minutes passed, and then…

Alex grunted lightly, dropping his free hand from his thigh and using it instead to support himself as he curled forward, pushing down hard. Slowly, their child inched forward into their waiting arms. Alexander began to groan as the babe’s hips stretched him, the sound transposing to a high scream that stood the small hairs on the back of John’s neck. Then, in a rush of liquid, the child slipped free.

Alex gasped loudly and reached down, lifting the newborn into his arms. John was quick to move the coat from Alexander’s legs around the newborn’s naked body, now exposed to the unforgiving cold.

Upon instinct, Alex brought the infant to his chest, rocking and cooing lightly to the child as it began to wail. It was the most beautiful sound John decided he had ever heard.

“He’s here. Oh, he’s here, John, look!” Alexander babbled, still rocking and kissing every bit of the child his lips could reach.

 _“Is_ it a boy?” John wondered out loud, lost in a haze of emotion after witnessing the birth of his baby, the sight of Alexander holding their newborn indescribably beautiful and _real_ before him.

Alex paused in his rocking and lifted the coat that covered their infant, his breath audibly catching in his throat as he peeked under.

“Alex? What is it? Is everything alright?” John floundered, now worried.

“Yes, I… He is- I mean to say…”

“Alex?”

Alexander looked up at John with fresh tears in his eyes. Our child, he… or she, is like me,” Alex stated with wonder, a look of pride overtaking the young man’s features as he turned back to the new life he had just delivered.

“He is like me,” Alexander repeated, quietly, more to himself than to John.

So, their baby was a carrier, just like Alexander. John was at a loss for words, instead letting his usually cool countenance slip, allowing relieved tears to fall freely. Their baby was here, Alexander was alive. In reality, the gender didn’t matter as long as they were both safe.

Time had no meaning as John cuddled up behind his partner, supporting Alexander’s weight and wrapping a protective arm around the young man, peeking now, for the first time, at their newborn baby.

Complete, at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO, THE BABY'S HERE!!!
> 
> Props to everyone who guessed it would be a carrier, too. ;)
> 
> BUT BUT BUT! The story, of course, isn't over! Our guys still need to *literally* get out of the woods ((AND NAME THE BABY)). Stay tuned for the conclusion, AND A TWIST. I swear there are only a few chapters left, lol
> 
> ANY BABY NAME SUGGESTIONS?¿??


	38. An Uneasy Breath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: afterbirth, not much else, short chapter, BUT THE PLOT IS THICKENING OOOOO

John had felt himself doze off, blissful and suddenly overwhelmingly tired as the winter chill crept further into his meager clothing. All was silent until he was startled awake by Alexander shifting and groaning quietly.

“Alex?” John managed sleepily. His eyelids were heavy and he found it hard to move, or even remain conscious, for that matter.

“I’m alright,” Alex assured, though he sounded strained.

They were in the same position they had been when John had drifted off, Alexander’s back resting against John’s firm body, and John, himself, leaning against the old oak tree, now somehow more welcoming than it had been when they first arrived.

Still cradled safely in Alexander’s arms was their tiny newborn, tucked away in John’s warm undercoat. Despite the tender hold Alex had on their baby, the young man’s body felt tense, his legs spread wide once again.

Alex let out an uneasy breath, a short grunt following shortly after.

For a moment, John’s heart skipped. _God, was there another child?_

“It is… _ah_ … the afterbirth.” Alex assured, sensing John’s sudden stress. “Do not worry, it isn’t nearly as bad as the child itself.” Alexander smiled back at John with tired eyes. The young man had to be utterly exhausted. He certainly looked worse for the wear, though John was sure that he, himself, likely did as well.

Alex took in a slow breath, then went silent, his body tensing even more. Concerned, John began sliding his hands up and down Alexander’s sides, hoping the gesture would come off as supportive and loving, as he could do little to help.

Alexander’s breath hitched, a pant, and then a slow release out.

The two went silent. John vaguely registered that the sun would be setting soon, but couldn’t fully remember why that was such a terrible thing. His mind felt cloudy, uncharacteristically distracted and unfocused. He tried to shake away the feeling, remain present for his partner and child; he tried to move, but his body felt so heavy. Then Alex was speaking softly. Saying something, something about it all being over now.

Without realizing it, John drifted back to unconsciousness, the only sounds around them the rustling of the pines and the scurrying of small creatures on the boughs above.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something ain't riiiiight...


	39. Head's Pounding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter: an abysmal situation, hurt John and worried Alex. Also a cute baby, so that's fun, right?

The shadows of the forest had grown dangerously long when Alex shivered awake, realizing with a start that he had dozed off.

Upon instinct, Alex jostled the baby in his arms, fearing it may have succumbed to the cold in his absence. To Alexander’s great relief, the newborn instead began to flail its little arms and grunt in protest, just narrowly opening its eyes as if to ask ‘why?’

Alex chuckled, alight with the sense of new motherhood. His baby was robust and healthy, plump and already a survivor in this harsh wilderness. Perhaps other infants would already have faded in such elements, but Alexander could tell this child was strong. A sense of determination Alex had not felt since the war suddenly set in, like an itch under his skin.

“I will not let you die here,” Alex whispered, kissing his newborn’s soft crown. _“We_ will not die here, I promise you this.”

With that proclamation, Alex looked to his side and focused on his long since discarded pants, thankfully just within his reach. They were soggy and cold, but Alex figured they were better than no pants when it came down to it. 

With a minimal amount of wiggling, he was able to pull the fabric over his bare legs, numb and stiff from the cold. His toes and feet were no better, devoid of feeling and frozen as he struggled to pull on his socks, his baby still struggling fitfully in the crook of his arm.

When it came to shoes, though, it became impossible for Alex to balance the child and struggle with his frozen appendages all at once, and laying the newborn on the ground was quite out of the question.

“Jack, my love?”

Alexander could feel John behind him, leaning limply against the oak tree, his chest slowly rising and falling, then pausing, then rising once again, as if he were in a deep slumber.

“Jack?” Alex asked a little more insistently, reaching behind him with one hand and grasping at John, attempting to stir him. He found the end of John’s sleeve and began to tug, “John. John, it’s time to get up! We must go.”

John stirred, oddly rolling his eyes around before finding and focusing on Alexander.

“My dear, could you hold…” Alex floundered for a gender pronoun briefly before giving up, “our child? Only for a moment. I must put on my shoes and then we must be off.”

There was an unusual pause, then John spoke, his voice slurred from what Alexander guessed was sleep, “of course.”

Alex turned slowly, careful not to upset his sore muscles too much in one movement. It would be a long walk home, especially after giving birth, so he would have to be very gentle with his taxed body. He needed it to get him and his child to safety, and failing was no longer an option in Alexander’s mind.

John reached out as Alex willingly deposited their baby into his arms, though the young man’s eyes lingered as John cradled the child close, his breath catching slightly as he held their newborn for the first time. Alexander loved that look. The same look John had donned when he first met Corentine, a look of wonder and unconditional love.

This was why they had chosen to grow their family. Perhaps it was selfish, but to have a baby and raise it without having to give it up this time was healing: it would be a gift the couple never had the chance to enjoy. _As long as we survive,_ Alex’s thoughts intruded, darkly.

Finally fully clothed and miserably no warmer, Alex turned back to John, only to find his partner still slumped against the oak tree, their child still held safely, if not loosely in his arms. A sense of wrongness enveloped Alexander like a cold blanket.

“Jack?”

There was no response.

Alexander reached out, his heart skipping. His hand gripped his lover’s cold arm, pleading. “John!”

John startled awake, his eyes darting around, unable to focus. His head lulled to the side as if he were going to pass out again.

Alexander braced John’s head with both hands desperately, “No! John, please, we can’t sleep here. What is wrong? Are you not well?”

“M’sorry… Alex. So… _tired_." John’s words sounded more gruff and slurred than Alexander had ever heard. He had never seen his lover look and sound so weak. It was jarring, it was wrong. There was something amiss, something… 

Alexander’s eyes flew to John’s fingers, fearfully searching for signs of frostbite. Although cold, his partner didn’t seem to be showing any signs of freezing, though without a coat, he wouldn’t last the night. But if not yet frostbite, then what?

Alex felt his heart begin to hammer, “my love, I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Why can you not move? Are you cold?”

It took a long moment for John to answer. “Head… ’s pounding.”

“Your head hurts?”

John groaned weakly in answer, his eyes heavily lidded, his hold on their child steadily loosening. 

Alexander’s focus turned to the ugly gash behind John’s hairline, gory and crusted, dried blood tainting his partner’s beautiful blonde hair. 

Suddenly, Alex understood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT I UPDATED!!
> 
> Haha, I'm so sorry it took me a million years to get my shit together, school hit me like the tonniest ton of bricks.
> 
> The good news is, it's spring break, which means I'M FINISHING THIS STORY FINALLY.
> 
> Also, please don't hate me, but I totally have a part 3 I want to add to this series, so strap in for that.
> 
> ALSO also, just thank you to everyone who's followed this story. All your messages of "WHEN ARE YOU FINISHING THIS" have really made me realize how much you guys like it, and it really helps keep me going. :)
> 
> So, stay tuned, because we're almost done with this train wreck! I promise, the ending won't be heartbreaking, lol


End file.
